


A Vi Magicae

by Remusdoesntdie (applepieisworthit)



Series: A Vi Magicae [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: After war recovery, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-War, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Black Hermione Granger, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dating, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Indian Harry Potter, Indian James Potter, Kinda slow burn? I suppose, LGBTQ Characters, Marauders, Post-War, Romance, Sirius Black & Hermione Granger friendship, Smut, Time Travel, Unspeakables made something they didn't understand, slight ron bashing, wishy-washy magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 66,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28979823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applepieisworthit/pseuds/Remusdoesntdie
Summary: Everyone thought James Potter had died the fateful night of 31st October 1981. It's not the case though. A magical device clones James without his knowledge, and now he's appeared in 1998 the same age he was when he 'died'. How can he navigate the future when he's so out of place, his son is fully grown, and his heart was left behind with Lily Evans in 1981.A Vi Magicae - A Force of Magic.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/James Potter, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Past James Potter/Lily Evans Potter - Relationship, minor Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini - Relationship
Series: A Vi Magicae [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130639
Comments: 180
Kudos: 160





	1. What was...

**Author's Note:**

> What's this I'm working on multiple things at once when I probably should focus on one??! Oh yes haha!!
> 
> This is my new (old) story. I started writing it ages ago and just got back into writing it. Not entirely sure how long it's going to be, but I do have a full timeline written out, so I should know where this is going haha :D 'should' being the operative word!

**31** **st** **October 1981** ****  
**Potter Cottage – Godric’s Hollow** **  
** **Residence of James and Lily Potter**

James was in the living room packing away Harry’s scattered toys when the door to Potter Cottage blew open, sending splinters flying into the hallway and surrounding rooms. James jumped, horror rushing into his veins and sending him diving for his wand, which lay on the side next to a strangely egg-shaped mystery object – left there by Lily, who was an unspeakable.

In his frantic grasping his hand closed around the egg-shaped object and, before he had the chance to drop it and clutch his wand instead, he was suddenly standing in the front hall of the cottage, facing a menacing silhouette wreathed in unnaturally twisting black robes.

James gulped and shouted up the stairs, no time to wonder about how the hell he had suddenly come to be standing in the hall, panic making his voice shake slightly, “Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!” He didn’t dare let his beloved wife know that he had no way of defending himself against Voldemort. He faced the monster that had murdered his friends and fellow Order members, knowing that his death was coming and only hoping that Lily had time to apparate herself and Harry out of the cottage.

Voldemort gave James no reprieve, no chance to try anything, before he was uttering the deadliest of the three Unforgivables, and a jet of green magic was headed unerringly for James. His body fell to the floor, determination still writ on his face.

Everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm just posting the intro for now. Should hopefully get more written soon, and then I can get more chapters up. Let me know what you think so far?


	2. Moving on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter!! I was planning on posting the second chapter of Ultimo Tendo first, but I've already gotten 12 chapters of this one written, so I wanted to post the next one :D

**11** **th** **May 1998** **  
** **9am** **  
** **12 Grimmauld Place – London** **  
** **Residence of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley**

The week and a half following the battle that had decided the fate of the Wizarding world sped by in a rush for the current inhabitants of 12 Grimmauld Place. The old house held terrible memories for all three of the so-called ‘Golden Trio’, but they found that they couldn’t force themselves to split up, or spend too much time apart, so the old, decrepit house offered solace from the overbearing family members, press, and Ministry.

Ron was staying in his and Harry’s old bedroom, their old beds spelled into one large double bed, avoiding going home and having to deal with his mother fussing over him to take her mind off Fred’s currently comatose form in St. Mungo's. Hermione, who currently had no family in the country, secreted herself away in the library for unhealthy amounts of time. She did everything she could to avoid thinking of their friends who had died by burying herself in fictional worlds. Harry had adopted some kind of manic cleaning fever that led to him almost completely gutting out both the parlour and dining room so far, just to take his mind off of everything that had happened.

They may have been living together, but they were all as alone as they could be.

It was Remus who finally pulled the three teenagers out of their own melancholy bubbles. On the bright morning of the 11th May, he entered the old Order of the Phoenix headquarters to find Harry in the dining room, methodically destroying plate after plate of Sirius’ mother’s old china. Through the debris of the broken china he could see that Harry’s bare feet were cut and bleeding sluggishly, he cursed himself for leaving his pseudo son alone whilst he comforted his wife and mother-in-law over the loss of Ted. He’d thought it would be a healing process, but this was just destructive.

“Harry.” When his normal tone of voice garnered no reaction whatsoever from the young Potter, Remus stepped into the room, not worrying about stepping on the already shattered china littering the floor, “Harry, you need to stop.” The saviour of the Wizarding world didn’t look up from where he was staring at a plate cracked almost perfectly in half down the middle, nor show any indication that he’d heard Remus. “Harry! Look at me, son.”

Harry finally looked up, his face bleak and fallen into a mien of apathy that shouldn’t be seen on one so young, “Remus?” Harry’s voice was croaky, and rough, as though he hadn’t spoken in days, and he looked around the room, shocked, as though he hadn’t been fully aware of what he’d been doing. “What-” he cut himself off to cough sharply and Remus frowned painfully at the sound.

“Harry, what have you been doing? Your feet are all cut up.” Remus stepped even closer, holding his hands in front of himself slightly as though he were approaching an easily spooked wild animal. “You need to stop, and let me heal you, Harry.”

Harry had looked down at his feet when Remus mentioned them, and seemed to fall into another trance, not paying attention to Remus at all again. Remus sent a few healing spells silently at Harry’s feet, stopping the bleeding and cleaning the wounds out, he couldn’t do much more whilst Harry was standing, and he couldn’t seem to get through to him right now. He turned to leave the room and hopefully find Hermione to talk some sense into the boy, but not before he waved his wand again, and with a silent spell, cleared all of the shattered china debris from the floor, so that Harry couldn’t injure himself any more.

When Remus left the dining room, he stood for a moment, deliberating where exactly Hermione would be, and finally decided to check the library first. He did indeed find her in there when he got to the second floor of the house, slightly out of breath from the two staircases he’d had to climb.

He entered the library quietly, careful of disturbing her, but she was so engrossed in her book that she didn’t even notice him when he took a seat beside her on the sofa. “Hermione?” he asked softly, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She startled, nearly dropping the book in her hands, and whirled to face him with her wand held in trembling fingers. “Professor!”

Remus held his hands up placatingly, “I’m sorry for startling you, Hermione. I thought you may have noticed me.”

“It’s alright, Professor. I was engrossed in my book.” She looked at him intently for a moment, then lowered her wand and frowned at him, “Are you alright, Professor?”

“I really must insist that you call me Remus, Hermione. Or Lupin, at least. I haven’t been your Professor for four years.” Hermione blushed slightly and nodded agreeably, though she narrowed her eyes at him after a moment when he hadn’t answered her question. He smiled, “I’m perfectly fine, thank you, Hermione. Are you?” The last was asked quite insistently, and Hermione flinched almost imperceptibly at the question.

“I’m fine, Remus, why do you ask?”

Remus frowned, giving her a moment, before he took the book gently from her and forced her to look at him when she would have turned away, “Because I’ve spoken to two residents of this house so far, and neither of you look fine, or alright, or whatever other adjective you want to throw at me.”

“Remus-”

“Harry has been injuring himself, not on purpose I might add, but it’s still worrying. And you’re shut up in a dusty, old library losing yourself in books. That’s okay every now and again, but you both need to get out of this old house, need to see the people that are still alive. Otherwise I'm afraid that we’ll lose you both too.” Remus looked away from Hermione’s intense eyes, tears welling in his own. “We’ve lost too much already, Hermione. Let’s not lose anymore, hmm?”

Hermione reached out and grasped his hands tightly in hers, “Oh, Professor. I'm sorry.” He opened his mouth, but she kept speaking over him, not wanting to hear that she didn't need to apologise, “It’s just so hard to even go outside, let alone see others when so many died for us.”

“Remus.” He reminded gently, “They gave their lives so that we could keep ours, Hermione. Not so that we could shut ourselves away and wither to nothing. I know it’s hard, believe me, I shut myself away from the world after Lily and James died, and I wanted to after Sirius died. But I found something to focus on, something to keep me going, and you need to do that too. You’ll waste away otherwise.”

Hermione’s eyes welled up, and she looked down at her hands, which were still encased in Remus’ larger ones. “What, though. I know logically I need to do something, but it’s hard.”

“That’s why I came over, actually. Seeing you two like this, I wish I’d come earlier. Hogwarts rebuilding is starting today, and I thought you, Ron, and Harry may like to help.” Remus squeezed Hermione’s hands lightly before letting go, and standing.

Hermione’s eyes lit up slightly, and Remus smiled at the expression, “I’d like that, Remus.”

“Good. Now, you go get Harry, and try to heal his feet more than I was able.” Hermione gasped in horror, the truth of Harry injuring himself finally sinking in.

“How bad is it, Remus?”

“Not good.”

Hermione jumped from the sofa, rummaging in the beaded bag that had yet to leave her side, “I can’t believe I've been so selfish!” She reprimanded herself as she rushed out of the room and down the stairs to Harry, before Remus could argue against her self-recrimination.

He sighed and followed her out of the room, turning in the opposite direction, and headed towards the stairs going up to the next level where the guest bedrooms were housed. He found Ron lying listlessly on bed in the room he used to share with Harry, his blue eyes were unfocused and staring blindly at the canopy. Remus sighed angrily, berating himself silently for not checking up on the three clearly damaged teenagers who had secreted themselves away in this dilapidated house.

“Ron?” Remus took a seat lightly on the bed beside Ron, and rested a hand gently on the boy’s freckled arm, ready for and expecting the wand that came up towards him lightning fast, “It’s just me, Ron.”

The redhead let out a relieved breath, his eyes that had turned to face Remus, awareness stirring for a moment in them at the possible threat, moved back to stare at the canopy, “What are you doing here?” He asked quietly. His voice, though hoarse from lack of use like Harry’s had been, was stronger and much more aware than either Harry or Hermione’s had been.

“Are you okay, Ron?”

“Define okay,” The younger Wizard said with a snort, “One of my brother’s is currently in a coma, Percy is probably going to lose his leg unless the dittany works, and Bill is scarred for life. Mum’s been rushing around like a headless chicken, acting like nothing has happened, and everything is the same as it was before she killed Bellatrix. But it’s not. I can't stay in that _fucking_ house, and just pretend like they all are.”

“Ron-” Remus tried to interrupt, feeling bad for dredging everything to the surface.

Ron was on a roll though, and he finally turned and looked at Remus with a surprising intensity on his face, “George has locked himself up in his flat, and won’t talk to anyone, cos St. Mungo's won’t let him in unless it’s visiting hours. Ginny won’t talk to anyone, Charlie has disappeared back to Romania like he was never here, and dad is tinkering away with muggle toys again like that’s going to fix his broken family. Harry hasn’t spoken in five days, and is probably currently breaking everything downstairs, and Hermione won’t look at me when I try to talk to her. What the hell am I supposed to do? Huh? So, no. I'm not _okay_.”

“I'm sorry, Ron. That was a bad question to ask.” Remus shifted slightly where he’d sat next to Ron on the bed, looking away awkwardly. “Hermione is currently healing Harry’s feet. Hogwarts renovations start today, and I came to ask if you three wanted to help. It will take your mind off things.”

Ron sniffed slightly, shifting up the bed so that he was sitting up instead of lying down. “Hermione spoke to you?”

“Only after I shocked her out of her reverie.” Ron looked away guiltily, clearly upset that he hadn’t been able to do the same. “Ron, you aren’t responsible for getting your friends, or your family, out of whatever pits they’ve fallen into, not by yourself. I'm here to help, I'm just sorry I didn’t come over earlier.”

“I'm sorry, Lupin.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, Ron. You, Hermione, and Harry are the reason that Voldemort was defeated. You deserve to be able to rest, but we don’t want you all swimming in guilt, or sadness.” Remus gripped Ron’s arm lightly, pulling him from the bed, “Come help with Hogwarts, do something to take your mind off stuff. Then go see your family, and tell them how you're feeling – it will help, believe me. Molly is probably just trying to hold herself together for all her kids, but she needs to know that it’s not helping.”

Ron took a deep breath, nodded resolutely, and preceded Remus out the room downstairs to join Harry and Hermione. Remus took a moment to take a breath, too familiar with the states they’d fallen into after the war, as it was much too much like the state he’d fallen into after the first war.

 **  
** **11** t **h** **May 1998** ****  
**10am** **  
** **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - Scotland**

When Remus and Ron arrived downstairs, Hermione had managed to pull Harry out of the dining room, and the latter was healed and gulping down a hot cup of tea. He looked up as the two entered, his emerald eyes bright with tears, but finally aware for the first time in days. Ron immediately enveloped his two best friends in a tight hug, and the three took a moment to just be together. They exchanged whispered words Remus pretended not to hear, but he was glad to know they would be spending time together in this large house instead of hiding away from each other, and their feelings.

They all apparated to the path just outside Hogwarts not long later, determined to help with putting their beloved school back together. The front gates hung awkwardly from their half-destroyed intricately designed stone supports, and the wards were shimmering where parts of them had been damaged or completely ruined.

Harry, who finally seemed to have come back to himself, swore emphatically at the evidence of the destruction they were going to find when they walked onto the grounds. Without a word to each other, they stepped forward as a group, and past the now ineffective wards. None of them had been back since the night of the battle and they walked up the long path to the demolished front doors of the castle slowly, their eyes darting in horror over the devastated grounds; most of the grass covering the lawn that led away from the castle on both sides of the path, to the lake and greenhouses respectively, was burnt away and singed beyond saving. There were pieces of rubble from the castle, some as small as gravel, some as large as the Ford Anglia, strewn about the lawn, and they found themselves stepping around pieces of destroyed statues as they walked up the drive.

There were people all over the grounds, clearing away the pieces of rubble slowly but surely – sorting them into salvageable and non-salvageable piles so that the castle could be rebuilt for 1st September. Many of them stopped and stared as the melancholy procession formed of the golden trio and the last remaining Marauder passed them by. No one said anything, but a lot of them raised their wands silently in solidarity. Tears gathered in Harry’s eyes as he watched them all salute, and he raised his wand in response, silently thanking them for their help.

Professor McGonagall was standing on the entrance steps when the four finally got close enough, a grim smile on her face that lightened slightly when she saw all of them alive and well. “Good morning. You’ve come to help with the restoration?” When they all nodded, she gestured for them to follow her through the non-existent doors and to the Great Hall.

There were even more people helping in the Great Hall, and it was obvious that this was the first place they’d started on; the rubble was almost completely cleared away and there were various people magically scrubbing at the ancient stone floors to remove the evidence of the battle. They all looked away from the bloodstains on the floor from where the many dead had lain not that long ago.

“Ronald! Oh Ron!” They turned as one at the sudden shout to find Mrs. Weasley rushing toward them, soapy water dripping down her arms, and a wide smile on her face as she saw her youngest son. Ron glanced back at Remus briefly, who nodded, before hurrying to meet his mother half way. She swept him into a bone crushing hug, before turning and setting her sights on Harry, and Hermione, who’s eyes both widened when she pulled them both into as tight a hug. “Don’t you all leave with no word again. I was so worried!” She whirled on Ron with a determined look, and the three all had sudden flashbacks to the horrible cleaning she’d forced them to do three years ago. “Come with me. Help me clean!” She grabbed Ron’s arm forcefully and the two were gone from the room in a whirl of red hair and soap with nothing further.

Harry, Hermione, and Remus blinked at each other briefly, before McGonagall interrupted the shock entrance and exit of Molly Weasley. “You can start wherever you like, but the astronomy tower and upper floors need the most work. The Room of Requirement has already been fixed by the House Elves, but everywhere else is going to be tough work. There are books on repairing and cleaning spells over there.” She finished by pointing to the corner of the room, where there were indeed piles of books, before stepping away from them and leaving them to it.

Without further ado, they went to collect some books and start clearing and repairing Hogwarts; it would be a long job, but they knew it’d be worth it in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Reviews are motivation :P


	3. A return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain someone is coming back this chapter! I couldn't keep him out :P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that this is hopefully going to update every Thursday (as long as my writing keeps going as well as it's going right now haha!)

**20** **th** **June 1998** **  
** **11am** **  
** **12 Grimmauld Place – London**

It had been over a month since the Battle of Hogwarts – as people were now calling it – and whilst the renovations on Hogwarts were slow to progress, the rest of the Wizarding World had been busy rebuilding too. The Ministry of Magic had been the first focus of the remaining members of The Order of the Phoenix and, before some ‘former’ Death Eater could swoop in and take the position that had been left open by Scrimgeour’s death, Kingsley Shacklebolt was appointed Minister of Magic – a position he fit very well, and hardly anyone had protested to. Elections to ratify his position had taken place just days ago, and he had been properly and legally appointed.

The day after his appointment as Minister on 6th June, Kingsley had started the long and arduous job of firing and exposing Voldemort’s supporters in the Ministry. Most were imprisoned after a quick trial, or fired by virtue of their actions during the war (Harry had been ecstatic over the imprisonment of one Dolores Umbridge). The trials for Death Eaters had also started, and, whilst almost every single one of them was sent to Azkaban for the rest of their lives, Harry had testified on both Draco and Narcissa Malfoy’s behalf, insisting that they get commuted sentences or pardons. With quite a lot of reluctance, but respect for the saviour, both of them were pardoned of most of their wrong doing, and ordered to pay hefty fines towards the reconstruction efforts.

The ‘Golden Trio’ were still staying in Grimmauld Place together, but, per Remus’ request, they’d started trying to communicate healthily again, and making sure to leave the house and not let themselves fall into the same rut as a month ago. Hermione and Ron, to the shock of absolutely no-one, had started tentatively dating, after discussing what they’d come to refer to as ‘The Kiss’.

Whilst Hermione had acquiesced to Remus’ request to not lose herself in reading as she’d tried to do a month previous, she had spent the last few weeks researching. At first, it had been ways to return her parents’ memories and bring them home to England, but when, to her utter horror and devastation, she had discovered that there was no way of reversing the particular memory spell that she’d used on them, she started a new project that she had absolutely refused to tell anyone about.

She spent her evenings in the library at Grimmauld Place, or the newly restored library at Hogwarts, and her nights with Ron, but she refused to tell anyone where she was spending the majority of her days. She’d excused herself from helping with the restoration of Hogwarts for the time that she spent working on her project.

The only person who knew of her plan was Kingsley, because he had to let her into the Ministry. She had been spending her time studying the Veil in depth, trying to find out what happened to someone if they fell into it. Sirius had been hit by a relatively harmless spell by Bellatrix in the battle that had brought them to this room, and would’ve survived if it hadn’t been for him falling into the Veil. Whilst Hermione worked tirelessly at trying to fix the Veil, Kingsley was trying his utmost to get Sirius’ name pardoned by the Wizengamot, but even with the testimony of every member of The Order, and Harry’s insistence, the majority of them refused to even consider it – too set in their assumption that it had been Sirius who led to the Potter’s deaths, and the horrible murders of the twelve muggles he had been framed for, and their wilful ignorance that Harry was no longer a young boy.

Hermione was currently secreted away in Grimmauld Place’s library, reading through an incredibly dark tome written by an ancient ancestor of Sirius’ with an unpronounceable name, and some odd obsessions that Hermione didn’t want to delve too deeply into. Despite the odd nature of the author of the tome, it held some incredibly useful information about Veils between this world and the next, and Hermione had lost herself so much in an explanation of a particular type of Veil, which only suspended people in time, and didn’t take them to the next plane of existence, that she didn’t notice anyone else entering the library until a vague outline of a person with bright green hair flopped onto the sofa beside her.

“Wotcher, ‘Mione.”

“Merlin!” Hermione jumped about a mile out of her seat, turning a surprised look on Tonks, who was grinning unrepentantly beside her.

“I thought my dear old Remus told you _not_ to lose yourself in literature, huh, ‘Mione?” Hermione looked away guiltily, and as such didn’t notice Tonks reaching for the book held loosely in her hands, until she’d already snatched it away, “What’cha reading?”

“Tonks! No! Please give that back.”

“Oooh! Are you reading something naughty, Hermione.” Tonks winked wickedly, tongue poking out and eyebrows wiggling, “Something racy?” Tonks was still chuckling when she looked down properly at the book she now held in her hands, keeping it away from Hermione’s desperate grabs to get it back. Her laugh abruptly cut off when she read the first couple of lines of the passage Hermione had been engrossed in just a few minutes ago. “Hermione, what is this?” Tonks’ voice was deadly serious – a tone hardly anyone ever heard from her.

“A book?” Hermione was tentative, not a feeling she usually got, and she couldn’t say that she enjoyed it. But this was serious (no pun intended) and she didn’t want to risk getting anyone’s hopes up if she couldn’t find anything.

Tonks wasn’t having any of it, she sent Hermione a look, turning back to the book and reading some of the passage aloud, “‘ _This type of Veil is characterised by its marbled arch and the black curtain seeming to be made of cloth that hangs from the top. Whilst most Veils take anyone, or thing, that enters them onto the hereafter, this type of Veil only suspends animate objects until they can be retrieved in the same condition that they went in.’_ Hermione, what the hell is? This isn’t any light reading. This is about dark magic.” She frowned unhappily.

Hermione sighed, and decided that telling one person couldn’t hurt, “I’ll tell you, Tonks. But you have to promise you won’t tell anyone – especially not Remus.”

“Hermione-” Tonks sounded unsure, and worried.

“I promise I’ll tell them eventually, but I really don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

“What are you doing, Hermione?”

“I've been researching to see if there is any way to save Sirius from the Veil.” Hermione looked down, fiddling with a loose thread on the muggle jeans she was wearing.

Beside her Tonks sucked in a shocked breath, and there was a thunk as she placed the book on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “You’ve been- and-” Tonks stopped and swallowed thickly, “and is there a way to bring him back?”

“I think so. I've got to look into it more, but…” Hermione trailed off, finally looking at Tonks and noticing the hopeful tears in her eyes, “I think that he fell into a Veil that just suspended him in time. I've got to work out if there’s any way to pull him from it.”

“Hermione, I- this is amazing. Are you sure?”

“No.” Hermione hated being blunt, but she didn’t want to get Tonks’ hopes up any more than she already had. “I'm really not sure. That’s why I haven’t told anyone yet. Promise me you won’t tell anyone until I know for sure. Then I’ll tell people, if I can get him back.”

Tonks was already nodding earnestly halfway through Hermione’s pleading, “I promise.” Hermione smiled happily at Tonks, and when the Metamorphmagus got up and left a few minutes later, she went straight back to her research – more determined now than ever to get Sirius back.

**8** **th** **July 1998** **  
** **10pm** **  
****Ministry of Magic – London** **  
** **Death Room, Department of Mysteries**

Kingsley snuck her into the Ministry as soon as she’d found a plausible ritual that would bring Sirius back into their world, alive and well. She had to wait impatiently in his office for almost two hours, to ensure all of the Ministry employees had left the building. Finally, at 10pm, the instrument that Kingsley had in his office to tell him if there were any other people left in the building, pinged. Hermione jumped to her feet, and hurried out of Kingsley’s office determinedly, barely waiting a moment to let him catch up to her.

Her foot tapped impatiently against the marble floor of the lift as it took them down past all of the levels of the Ministry to the Department of Mysteries. It only took under a minute with magic powering the lift, but it felt like so much longer when they finally stepped out of the lift.

Hermione hurried down the long, dark, marbled hallway to the door at the end that she knew led into the circular room with all the doors to the various experimental rooms in the Department of Mysteries. She waited impatiently for Kingsley to catch up to her, and they stepped through the door together. Kingsley spun around immediately, and, with two quick flicks of his wand, marked the door with a shimmering fire, and immobilised the fire.

Hermione waved her wand hurriedly in a motion she had been practicing for the last week, a spell to identify and find the Death Room for them. Never having actually been to the room or seen the Veil herself, due to being nearly killed the last time she was here, she relied on the spell, and followed its direction when the door to the direct right of their entrance swung open. 

They shared a brief glance, before rushing through the door. It swung shut silently behind them and they found themselves in some kind of room that held multiple different experimental projects on sets of shelves that looked endless. Hermione found herself inexplicably drawn to one of the shelves just to their left and stepped closer. Her eyes landed on an odd egg-shaped object, it sat innocuously on the shelf and Hermione almost wanted to reach out and touch, but Kingsley stopped her before she could.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Hermione. We don’t know what everything does down here.” Kingsley nodded to the note below the egg-shaped thing, “and by the looks of it, the Unspeakables don’t know either.”

The little, slightly yellowed, label read _‘Novus Vitae – don’t touch, unknown results’._ Hermione’s eyebrows shot up her forehead, and she allowed Kingsley to usher her through, and out of the room, even as she memorised the Latin to look up when she was home.

“This is it,” Kingsley said lowly, a touch of morbidity in his tone as they both stared at the Veil fluttering in the non-existent wind. Hermione’s lips parted as she stared at the piece of innocuous looking fabric that had taken Sirius from them, she stepped forward into the room determinedly, making her way down the rough-hewn steps to the dais in the middle where the Veil stood silently.

“Don’t come any closer, Kingsley.”

“Hermione-”

“It’s only supposed to be me in the room. I don’t want to risk anything with this, so please,” She turned to look at him pleadingly, “go stand in the doorway, as far away as possible.”

Kingsley looked at her steadily for a moment, reluctant to leave her alone with the deceptively dangerous Veil. Finally, he nodded sternly, and spun on his heel sharply. He ascended the steps quietly, stopping just in the doorway to the first room they’d come through – technically out of the Death room, but still able to see Hermione, and help her if needed.

Hermione took a deep breath, and turned back to face the Veil. She pulled out the multiple potions she’d had to make for this ritual to work, a wooden carved bowl, and a wicked looking knife. She poured the potions into the bowl slowly, watching as they mixed and coalesced and seemed to writhe, before drawing the knife soundlessly across the palm of her hand, barely wincing as it cut shallowly into the soft flesh of her palm – it was nothing like the cursed scars on her forearm.

She let the blood drip steadily from her hand into the bowl, until the mixture had turned a surprisingly vibrant purple, then pulled her hand back and healed it quickly and silently with the dittany she’d brought with her.

The potion mixture would only last for another five minutes before going ‘off’, so she worked quickly, standing and approaching the Veil determinedly. She steadfastly ignored the haunting voices she could hear coming from the Veil, and quickly traced the intricate shapes of the runes needed into the stone archway either side of the veil. When she was finished, she stepped back off the dais hurriedly, watching with bated breath as the runes started glowing a bright white. She pulled all of the healing potions she’d brought with her out of her robes and placed them neatly on the stone steps away from herself, then looked back at the arch.

The runes were pulsing now, and the glow grew steadily brighter until it filled the whole room with an unearthly light. With a bang, and an odd shriek, the light shot out around the room in a rush of magic and knocked both Hermione off her feet. When the light dissipated Hermione pulled herself to her feet, and in the light of the wall sconces that lined the room, was able to see a shaking form pushing itself to its feet just in front of the Veil.

She heard Kingsley suck in a shocked breath behind her, but held up a hand before he could step any closer. She took a few tentative steps herself, suddenly rushing forward when the figure staggered and nearly fell. She caught him under his armpits, holding him up as she helped him step down off the dais and away from the Veil. As she sat him down on the first low step, she brushed the long hair away from his face and hesitantly asked, “Sirius?”

The figure looked up at her, and nodded slowly, like he was wading through treacle to understand what she was saying. His eyes shifted over her face for a few moments, and finally, in a croaky voice, he whispered, “Hermione?”

“Oh, Sirius!” Hermione pulled him into a gentle hug, and after a moment of shocked hesitation, he hugged her back tightly, sobs suddenly wracking his worn frame. She pulled back after what was probably a few minutes, and noticed that Kingsley had come down a few steps. She rested a gentle hand on Sirius’ face, watching sadly as he pushed into the human contact. “I’ve got some healing potions for you, can you take them, Sirius?”

He nodded slowly, reluctant to try to say anymore. He still looked just as he had when he’d gone into the Veil just over two years ago. His face was still gaunt, though not as bad as when he’d just escaped from Azkaban. He was still too skinny, and his hair hung just past his shoulders. His chin was covered in stubble, and probably just about a day away from a proper beard, and though his grey eyes were bright, they were still haunted.

Hermione passed him potion after potion; nutrient restoring, and some to help his weight, his skin, anything that Hermione could think of that was restorative. She helped him apply dittany to the few cuts he had littering his arms and legs, and when they were finally done after nearly an hour, he looked much more like a proper human being. His hair, though still long and slightly tangled, looked much healthier, and his whole demeanour had improved with the pepper-up potion that had given him some energy.

“You’ll need to keep taking those potions until your body puts some weight back on.” Hermione said determinedly, her voice brooking no argument.

Sirius swallowed emotionally, “Thank you, Hermione.”

Hermione’s eyes welled up with tears, and she sniffed loudly, “You're welcome, Sirius.”

Now that Sirius had finally got his wits back, he looked around them slightly panicked, a frown marring his still handsome features. “Where is everyone? What’s going on? The last I remember was Bellatrix throwing some spell at me.”

“Sirius-” Hermione broke off, and looked hesitantly up at Kingsley, “I don’t know if now is the right time.”

Sirius scowled angrily, “Hermione, tell me what happened now.” He glanced behind him too, and finally caught sight of Kingsley standing there. “Kings! What’s going on?”

“Hello, Sirius.” Kingsley kept his voice calm and soothing, though that clearly only pissed Sirius off, “Hermione’s right. I don’t think now is the best time to talk about everything.”

“Will someone tell me what’s happened, and if my _godson_ is okay?! Right now!” Sirius finally lost it, his angry voice booming around the room, and he jumped to his feet with a sudden burst of adrenaline.

Hermione jumped up too, and put her hands calmingly on Sirius’ shoulders. “Yes! Yes, Sirius, I'm sorry. We’ll tell you. But you need to sit down and rest whilst we do.” As she spoke she pushed him down into the soft armchair that Kingsley had just transfigured from one of the empty potion vials. “You have to promise to not strain yourself while we explain, or we’ll make you get some sleep first.”

Sirius nodded reluctantly and settled himself more comfortably in the chair for their explanations. Hermione huffed, and tapped her finger on her bottom lip as she paced in front of Sirius, trying to decide where to start. She decided in the end to just go from what had happened after Sirius had fallen in the Veil.

“After Bellatrix threw that spell at you, you fell into the Veil,” here she gestured at the fluttering fabric behind her. Sirius’ eyes skipped towards the archway before settling back on Hermione. “That was two years ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!!
> 
> Also if anyone is interested I've just posted fancasts from amazing art by @UptheHillArt (on tumblr and insta) for how I imagine the characters in this story :D


	4. The Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More background and set up this chapter :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all just really setting stuff up still. So no James still I'm afraid.
> 
> Thank you everyone for your lovely reviews and kudos' they keep me going!!! I've got 20 chapters written for this fic so far, and I'm probably just over halfway through? Still unsure how long this is going to be haha :D

**20** **th** **July 1998** **  
****11am** **  
****12 Grimmauld Place – London** **  
****Residence of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Sirius Black**

After Hermione and Kingsley had finally finished explaining everything to Sirius, it was nearly 1am and, though Hermione had wanted to wait to reveal his arrival until the morning, she knew Harry would never forgive her if she didn’t let him know Sirius was back as soon as possible. So, she’d taken Sirius back to Grimmauld Place with her. She had already explained reluctantly to him that whilst Kingsley and Harry were pushing for his pardon, it hadn’t gone through yet, and he’d have to hide out with them until it could be done. He wasn’t happy about being back in his old house, but he’d pointed out to her that it would at least be better with her, and the others, there all the time.

Harry had been ecstatic to see Sirius alive and well, and so was Remus when she’d told him the next morning. They'd both thanked her profusely, following on from Sirius' sincere thanks for saving him from the grey of the veil. He'd then refused to talk anymore about the years he'd been behind the veil beyond that. For the last couple of weeks since he’d come back, it had only been them, Tonks, Kingsley, and Ron that knew about his return. Sirius had wanted to adjust before letting the rest of The Order know about his effective resurrection.

Finally, they hadn’t been able to put it off any longer, so Hermione called an Order meeting, asking everyone to come to Grimmauld Place. Even though it was a Monday morning, and many of them should be at work, every member of The Order still alive, and some trusted DA members, arrived on time. The full contingent of Weasleys were there – Fred had come out of his coma a few weeks ago, Charlie had yet to return to Romania after the battle, opting to stay and help rebuild over the long summer, Percy – sans leg – was recovering well (and learning to use the advanced magical prosthetic he’d been provided with by St. Mungo's), Ginny was finally talking again, and Ron seemed to have managed to talk his parents into acknowledging that though things had changed and life would never be the same again, they were alive and all well, and that was what mattered. 

Hermione smiled as Luna, Neville, and many of their other friends settled into seats around the enlarged dining table in the re-done kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Harry sat next to her, his leg bouncing nervously and insistently below the table. He was drumming his nails against the table top agitatedly, and Hermione decided to just get this over with as quickly as possible, just so she wouldn't stun her best friend.

“Right.” Hermione rose from her seat, immediately garnering the attention of everyone in the room. A resulting silence fell. “A few people here already know what I'm about to tell you, and I want everyone to keep an open mind until we have had a chance to explain everything. I’ll happily silence all of you if I need to.” Her eyes flitted around the room, resting on the few people she was worried about – mostly those who’d never known of Sirius’ innocence. “Does everyone understand?” She finally asked firmly, getting nods all around the table.

She took a deep breath, and turned to the kitchen door, saying loudly, “Okay, you can come in now.” Sirius pushed the door open slowly, and stepped into the room. Hermione, Harry, and Remus all had their hands on their wands waiting to defend him from any spells that might come towards him. Sirius had cleaned up well, and in the couple of weeks since Hermione had rescued him he’d put back on most of the weight that both Azkaban, and the few years after, had taken from him. He now looked healthy, with some proper colour in his cheeks, which no longer looked so gaunt, and his hair was now just above shoulder length and had been combed into a neater style. He looked much closer to the 37 his body was, than the 50 he’d looked before.

A multitude of shouts rose around the room when he stepped through the door, ranging from shock from those who knew that he was innocent and had supposedly died, to horror from those who never knew he was innocent. The only person who hadn’t known that he was back or innocent that looked entirely unaffected, was Luna – though Hermione couldn’t say she was surprised about that.

“Hermione… is that- is that _Sirius Black_?” That was Neville, utter horror colouring his tone as he leaned back in his chair, as though that would protect him from Sirius. He whispered Sirius’ name as if saying it louder might bring something awful down upon him.

Hermione lifted a hand to silence the cacophony of voices rising with question after question, and when that didn’t work, she shot off a few sparks from her wand. They showered down over the table and everyone shut up. “We’ll explain everything. But, for now, yes this is Sirius Black, yes he is alive.” She gestured for Sirius to step further into the room, which he did with his patented smirk on his face, and his old swagger. Remus rolled his eyes as he pulled out the seat between him and Harry for Sirius to take.

“Right.” Hermione took a deep breath, looked out at the sceptical faces staring back at her and launched into an explanation of how she’d brought Sirius back from the Veil. When she was done and everyone who had already known about his innocence looked placated, she stepped back and allowed the final two Marauders to explain Sirius’ innocence. 

Finally, everyone seemed to accept Sirius’ reappearance in their lives, and as there was nothing else to be said, the meeting was declared finished, and everyone got up to mill about and catch up. Discussing much more mundane things than resurrection and wrongful imprisonment. Everyone drifted in and out between the kitchen and formal dining room where Molly had laid out an amazing spread of food.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance when Professor McGonagall made her way determinedly towards them, frowning disapprovingly. In that moment, neither man felt like he’d aged a day past sixteen. Nevertheless, Sirius grinned winningly, and exclaimed “Minnie!” in the most obnoxious voice possible.

Professor McGonagall sent him a withering look, and turned her attention to Remus, who smiled placatingly. “Mr. Lupin.”

“Minerva, I must insist you call me Remus after all these years.”

McGonagall sniffed, but nodded stiffly. “You are the best Defence Professor Hogwarts has seen in recent memory. I want you to come back and teach. Now that You-Know-Who has perished, the curse no longer exists, and as such you could stay for longer than a year.”

Remus shifted awkwardly, not used to praise, “Minerva-”

McGonagall held up a silencing hand, “If you are about to make some excuse related to your lycanthropy, Remus, I will not hear a word of it. Hogwarts is outside of Ministry control, and we may hire who we wish,” She sniffed imperiously, “You are the only person I can think of who could do the job. I will not take no for an answer. Owl me by the end of the week to let me know when you plan on arriving for the new term.” Minerva turned her sharp eyes on Sirius, who grinned unrepentantly, “It is good to have you back with us, Sirius.” She said finally, resting her hand briefly on his shoulder. She shot a quelling look at Remus, who was opening his mouth to argue against her, and before either Marauder could say anything, she swept away.

They watched in bemused silence as she approached Harry, Hermione, and Ron, who were standing to the side of the room, watching the proceedings happily. She was clearly giving them some kind of speech as they all stood and listened to her attentively. Even with their superior hearing, the two Marauders only managed to catch enough over the din of the room to determine she was asking if they wanted to go back to Hogwarts for their final year.

Predictably Harry and Ron shook their heads almost immediately, and though McGonagall looked disappointed she seemed to understand. The shock came when Hermione, after a moment of deliberation, shook her head too. Harry, and Ron turned surprised eyes on their best friend, and McGonagall looked concerned. Remus and Sirius watched in amusement as Hermione explained to McGonagall just why she wouldn’t be going back to Hogwarts.

**1** **st** **August 1998** **  
****1am** **  
****12 Grimmauld Place – London**

After the surprise of Hermione’s decision to not go to Hogwarts, the rest of the meeting had passed quickly and, in the past two weeks, Sirius had mostly settled back into being alive again. Slowly but surely, however, the resentment he had developed being stuck in Grimmauld Place before he fell through the Veil, started to creep back in – though it was reduced by the presence of Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

Harry’s surprise birthday party had finished only a few minutes ago, and he and Ron were still drinking in the kitchen when Hermione headed upstairs to bed. She heard an odd noise as she passed the study on the first floor, and frowned at the slightly ajar door. She took a few steps closer, silently drawing her wand as she pushed the door inwards.

When she peeked around the now open door, she was surprised to find Sirius sitting at the desk, surprisingly sober, and flicking through a thick pile of parchment. Hermione’s eyebrows shot up her forehead as she watched him for a moment. “Come in, Hermione. Don’t just hang around in the doorway.” Sirius looked up from his perusing, and smiled warmly at her. Hermione determinedly ignored the little reminding flutter of her schoolgirl crush on him, it had been silly at the time, and he was still old enough to be her father.

“Sorry to interrupt, Sirius.” 

Sirius rolled his eyes, and gestured to the seat on the opposite side of the large oak desk. “You're fine, Kitten.” He took a sip of the nearly empty cup of tea sitting on the desk, and leant back comfortably in his chair, “You don’t want to spend time watching Harry and Ron getting shitfaced and discussing sex then?” He asked with a chuckle.

Hermione’s eyes widened, but she ignored Sirius’ crass words, not wanting to get into one of the many arguments they’d had a couple of years ago. “What are _you_ doing up here, that sounds like something you’d like to get involved in.” Sirius threw back his head on a laugh, black curls flying and his grey eyes sparkled with amusement when he looked back at Hermione.

“Usually, I would. You know me too well, Granger.” Hermione snorted slightly, but quelled it quickly. “If you must know, I've been trying to find the paperwork that details the warding around Black Manor.”

“Black Manor?” Hermione’s voice went much higher than its usual tone with her surprise. “There’s a Black Manor?”

“Of course,” Sirius frowned at her, “You didn’t think this awful place was the ancestral seat of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black did you?” Sirius’ voice was nearly caustic with his sarcasm, but he winked at Hermione to take the sting off.

“So why did you live here then? Surely the Heir and his family would live at the ‘ancestral seat’.” Hermione leaned forward in her chair, her academic interest in any new information taking over as it always did. She ignored Sirius’ sarcasm – not wanting to touch his catastrophic relationship with his family with a ten foot pole.

Sirius snorted, “My mother controlled this family with an iron fist, Hermione. She wanted to live here, and Orion being the Heir made no difference to that.” Hermione blinked a couple of times, but wasn’t that surprised judging by how Walburga Black’s portrait acted.

“Why are you looking for the warding details?” Hermione’s curiosity was piqued, and she wouldn’t leave until she’d finished interrogating Sirius.

Sirius smirked at her persistence, but consented to explain to her, “I want to open Black Manor back up again. It was closed after my uncle Cygnus’ death a few years ago. I need to check who is and isn’t permitted to cross the wards though, because knowing my family they would’ve stopped muggleborns and ‘half-breeds’.” Sirius sneered at the last, hating the term with a passion, and the way that most of his family treated those who weren’t pureblood. “I was planning on going today, and clearing the place out.”

Hermione pulled a sympathetic face that made Sirius cringe slightly, “You don’t want to stay here any longer than you have to?” Sirius flinched infinitesimally, but eventually nodded – Hermione’s earnest look relaxing him somewhat.

“I’m going to shut this place up with a fidelius charm and let the secret die with me. I refuse to force anyone else to spend time here again.” Hermione opened her mouth, concern marring her features. “You, Harry, and Ron are welcome to come live with me at Black Manor of course. Though you may have to help with the renovations I'm expecting to have to do.” He winked.

A blinding smile spread across Hermione’s face, and for the first time in a long time, Sirius felt a bit lighter. He was alive, the war was over, he was about to leave this godforsaken house, and his godson and godson’s friends were alive, well, and keeping him company.

**4pm** **  
****Grimmauld Place – London**

After a restful sleep for Sirius and Hermione, and a much less so one for Harry and Ron, Sirius woke everyone up by eleven, and by four that afternoon, everything in the house worth salvaging was packed up, and the four were standing out on the street, all they were taking with them shrunken in a bag at Hermione’s feet. 

Sirius offered his arm to Harry after a moment of hesitation, “I’ll apparate you to the Manor, then you can come back and take Hermione and Ron whilst I shut this place up tighter than Azkaban.” Harry wrapped his hand around Sirius’ forearm, and with a loud pop and a whoosh they were gone. Less than a minute later they reappeared, looking decidedly more windswept. Sirius had a large grin on his face as he waved them away, and turned his wand manically on his former home.

**9pm** **  
****Black Manor – Grantham, Lincolnshire** **  
****Residence of Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley**

Sirius arrived in front of the grand wrought iron gates of Black Manor not long after the trio, who stood gawping at the sight – they were even more impressive than the Malfoy gates were. Sirius chuckled, and, with a complicated few flicks of his wrist, drew down the wards surrounding the property. The three teenagers each shivered slightly, the depleting magic rushing away and through them.

“Did you just destroy the wards completely?” Hermione asked in awe, turning impressed eyes on Sirius.

Sirius scoffed, pulling a mock offended face, “No need for such surprise, Hermione.” He smirked again, and gestured for them to enter through the - still solid-looking, and very much closed - front gates. When all three of them hesitated, he scoffed again and stepped through ahead of them, “You all doubt magic much too much. Especially you, Ron, considering you grew up around it.” Ron’s ears turned pink as he mumbled something unintelligible.

Hermione stepped through next to Harry and Ron, but immediately turned to Sirius, taking up her previous line of questioning, “I don’t understand though, why did you completely destroy the wards?"

Sirius sighed, and ushered Hermione ahead of him towards the Manor, trying to get her to follow after her best friends, "Because they're designed to hurt or seriously maim anyone whose blood isn't completely pure. I thought it would be easier to just destroy them and re-build them again with nothing against Muggleborns, Half-bloods or anyone else in them." Hermione looked intrigued and was following along as Sirius walked up the path, throwing up standard wards behind him for now until he could design some stronger ones. He looked down at her and grinned a little, "Want to help research them?" He asked her. She grinned too, and finally hurried up towards the Manor after Harry and Ron. Sirius rolled his eyes and followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!
> 
> Also if you haven't seen, I've got a second 'story' in this series which is where I've currently uploaded my fancasts for the characters, and anything else I feel pertinent that won't fit in the fic will go there :)


	5. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Black family are coming back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops is this another chapter when I'm supposed to wait til Thursday.. yes, yes it is haha! I've got 21 chapters for this story written so far, and I've probably just passed halfway through haha... this is way longer than I thought it'd be!

**2** **nd** **August 1998** **  
** **7am** **  
** **Black Manor – Grantham, Lincolnshire**

The four new residents of Black Manor settled into their new home with ease, each taking a bedroom on the third floor of the Manor where the family rooms were based. Hermione had been the only one who noticed last night that Harry was not entirely with them, he’d kept drifting off or shifting nervously. That was why, when Harry entered the large kitchen of the Manor on the Sunday morning, Hermione was sitting at the table expectantly.

Harry didn’t notice her at first, shuffling into the room, and rubbing sleep out of his eyes, he headed straight for the cooling cabinet and pulled out the jug of pumpkin juice. He started drinking straight out of the jug, and it was only when he turned around to hunt for something to eat that he noticed Hermione, and promptly spat his current mouthful of juice out. Hermione frowned in disgust, and waved her wand to vanish the mess. “Honestly, couldn't you drink from a glass, Harry?”

“Hermione!” Harry spluttered. He looked away from his best friend shiftily, but came and sat at the table when she just smiled and gestured to a seat. “I didn’t think anyone would be up yet.”

Hermione’s eyebrow rose silently and she sent him a sceptical look, “Clearly.” She took a sip from the cup of tea sitting in front of her, “You do realise that you are the worst at keeping secrets?” Harry winced, and looked away from Hermione guiltily. “What’s going on, Harry? What’s so bad that you can't tell us?”

Harry shook his head, “It’s not bad.”

“Then why haven’t you told us?”

“Because of that. Nothing good ever happens to me, 'Mione. Why would this be any different?” 

Hermione reached out and laid a hand on top of Harry’s. “You can tell us, Harry. The war’s over, Voldemort’s gone, the Death Eaters are being rounded up as we speak. For the first time since we both joined this world, it’s mostly at peace. We’re okay. You're allowed to have something good.”

“I know.” Harry winced, squeezing Hermione’s hand tightly, “It’s just hard to realise that.” The two sat in silence for a moment, remembering the people they’d lost, and trying to push back the awful memories of the war.

Hermione finally broke the silence, going back to the reason they were both sitting in the kitchen so early on a Sunday, “Why are you up this early then?” 

“I start my training today.” Hermione’s eyebrows shot up her forehead, and she leant closer, clearly interested in where Harry was going with this, “I’m going to become a healer. I couldn’t stand the thought of fighting more bad guys. I've done it enough in my first eighteen years.”

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione clutched his hands tighter, a bright smile spreading across her face. “That sounds perfect for you!” Harry grinned back, if a bit hesitantly. 

“You think?”

“Of course!” Hermione hopped up from the table, unable to stay still for a moment, “I can't believe that you didn’t tell us! This is amazing, Harry. You have to tell Sirius and Ron as soon as you get home. When are you supposed to be there?”

Harry looked a bit bemused at the sudden onslaught of questions, but smiled when Hermione stopped pacing for a moment, and looked at him. “I start at 8am.”

Hermione cast a quick _ tempus _ , and her eyes widened. “Then what are you still doing here? Go! Now, Harry. Have a great first day.” Harry didn’t manage to get another word in edgewise as Hermione ushered him hurriedly towards the floo in the front room – the only room hooked up to the external floo – babbling all the way about how good Harry would be as a healer. Though he didn’t get a chance to protest that it was only half seven, and he really didn’t need to be there this early, he couldn’t stop the wide grin spreading across his face – it felt good to have told Hermione and have her unceasing support.

He finally spoke up just as she was about to push him through the floo. “Wait, Hermione. What are you going to do?”

Hermione frowned, “What? What am I going to do about what?”

“No.” Harry shook his head quickly, “No, I mean, what are you planning on doing for work?”

“Do we need to do this now, Harry? You’ll be late.”

“No, I won’t. It’s not even twenty-to yet.” Harry prodded her lightly in the side. “Come on, just tell me, then I’ll leave.”

Hermione huffed, but relented and stopped trying to push Harry through the floo. “I'm starting a potions apprenticeship with Healer Mallory at St. Mungo's in a couple of weeks. So I guess I’ll be seeing you.”

Harry grinned, “We really need to talk more.” Hermione laughed, and resumed trying to push Harry through the floo.

“Maybe if you started paying attention then you’d remember I told everyone a couple of weeks ago.” Harry frowned as he tried to remember Hermione talking about what she was going to do with her life. Hermione just huffed, rolled her eyes and finally succeeded in pushing him into the floo. “Oh, honestly, Harry. It doesn’t matter that much.”

Harry was whooshed away in a swirl of bright green flames, still looking confused. Hermione laughed.

**7** **th** **August 1998** **  
** **10am** **  
** **Black Manor – Grantham, Lincolnshire**

News of Sirius’ return had gotten out past the Order and spread like wildfire throughout the Wizarding World. Whomever had let it slip had somehow managed to convince a lot of people that Sirius was innocent, but even with this, the Aurors were once again out in force searching for Sirius. Kingsley, even with all the power of the Minister, hadn’t been able to rationalise not sending them out, though they were searching everywhere but where he was.

Kingsley and Harry were still trying to convince the Wizengamot to pardon Sirius, but with the rumour that he was back circulating, they steadfastly refused to consider pardoning him without having a proper trial that he attended. Every single Order member had decided there was no way they could let it be confirmed that Sirius was alive – especially because most of the members of the Wizengamot had implied that they wouldn’t permit the usual evidence of memories or a statement under veritaserum in Sirius’ possible trial.

So, Sirius was still shut up in hiding from the rest of the world – except the Order, of course. He used his spare time, when Hermione and Harry weren’t home, and Ron was exploring the gardens whilst he waited for his Auror training to start, to methodically go through each room in the sprawling four story Manor. Often he was accompanied by Remus, who currently didn’t have much to do until Hogwarts started again, and Teddy, who would be strapped to Remus’ chest, blue-haired and babbling nonsense.

On the day he discovered the room on the fourth floor dedicated entirely to the Black family tapestry – the one at Grimmauld Place an exact replica – he was alone. For some reason, he hadn’t expected to find such a blatant reminder of his family’s prejudice, even though he was exploring his ancestral home. He collapsed into one of the chairs in the room and spent an inordinately long time staring at the burnt spot where he used to be, and the stitched likeness of his younger brother.

As he was leaving the room, his eye caught on the charred silk where Andromeda had once been, and a determination gripped him. Within an hour he’d reinstated Andromeda, and the tapestry had magically stitched a glowing line between her and Ted Tonks, with a birth and death date appearing below the latter that sent a lance of sadness through Sirius, and a further few lines spiralled their way down from Andromeda and Ted for Tonks, Remus, and Teddy.

**12** **th** **August 1998** **  
** **1pm** **  
** **Black Manor – Grantham, Lincolnshire**

A few days later as Sirius relaxed by the pool outside, trying to get some colour to his pale skin - made almost impossible thanks to the weak British sun - one of the House Elves that lived and worked in the house (silently so that Hermione wouldn’t notice and rant at him) appeared beside him. “Master Sirius.”

Sirius jumped, sloshing his firewhiskey all over himself and bashing his knee against the armrest of the chair he was on, “Fuck! Holy mother of Merlin!” Sirius turned and looked at the House Elf, Merry. He just about stopped himself from glaring by reminding himself that this wasn’t Kreacher. “What is it?”

“Missus Malfoy and Master Draco Malfoy is outside the wards. They’s be wanting to sees you, master.”

Sirius eyebrows shot up, and he stopped absentmindedly wiping the firewhiskey from his bare chest, and stared at Merry for a moment, not completely comprehending what he had just told him, “What?”

“Missus Malfoy and Master Draco is outside the wards, master.”

“I- really?” Sirius pulled a ‘hmmm’ face, and finally stood, “I’ll go let them in, you can do something else.” Merry bowed his head briefly and disappeared with a pop. Sirius headed back through the Manor slowly, only remembering his bare, firewhiskey covered chest as he was about to yank the front doors open. He sighed, vanished the firewhiskey and summoned a shirt from upstairs, which took a few seconds to arrive. He pulled it on over his still slightly sticky chest, pulled a face, but carried on out the doors to greet his cousins anyway.

Narcissa and Draco were standing at the edge of the wards, looking surprisingly sheepish considering the kind of people they were. Sirius strolled up to the gates, hiding his amusement as his slow pace made the Malfoys more and more impatient.

“Cousins. What brings you here?” Sirius’ voice was hard beneath the jovial veneer he was presenting. Narcissa sniffed, and Draco sneered. Sirius just rolled his eyes.

“I see the rumours of your return weren’t exaggerated,  _ cousin. _ ” Narcissa’s voice was haughty, but Sirius didn’t react, staying within the wards.

He raised an eyebrow at her, “What do you want, ‘Cissa?”

“We just want to talk, Sirius.” Sirius snorted, which earned him a glare from both Malfoys, but finally relented and let them through the wards. He didn’t spare them another word or glance, just walked off and expected them to follow. The only reason he was even considering letting the two Slytherins ‘talk’ with him was because Remus had talked him into considering letting the rest of his family reconcile now Andromeda had been reinstated.

Sirius led them through the front doors, and quickly through the halls to the small parlour at the back of the Manor. “Are you not going to give us a tour, Sirius?” Narcissa asked as she settled into one of the large armchairs.

“No.” Sirius' eyes narrowed, and he said nothing more, though both Malfoys watched him expectantly. When the silence had finally stretched on long enough, Sirius spoke up again. “You said you wanted to talk, so talk.” He gestured at them impatiently, ignoring Narcissa’s sniff at his rudeness.

“I would take back my husband’s involvement in this war if I could, cousin.” Narcissa gamely ignored the derisive snort that escaped Sirius, “I know that we were on the losing side, and I wish I could thank Mr. Potter enough to show him my gratitude for saving my son-”

Draco interrupted Narcissa before she could go further, “Mother, you needn’t carry on.” He turned to Sirius, the earnest look on his face seeming slightly out of place, “Cousin, I insisted we come here. I may be a Malfoy, and unfortunately I now carry the disgrace that comes with that name, for our part fighting for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-”

“Voldemort.” Sirius interrupted acidly, taking great joy in the way both Malfoys flinched at the name.

“-but my mother was a Black, and I am a Black, and we heard through the grapevine that you plan on restoring the Black family to the greatness it had before our recent ancestors ran it into the dust.” Draco looked away from Sirius’ intense grey eyes, almost the exact same shade as Draco’s himself. “If we could, we wish to help restore the Black family.”

Sirius’ eyes narrowed, and he growled slightly, jumping from his seat to loom threateningly over the Malfoys, “So you’ve come to me because one side of your family is in disgrace, and you want to get in good with the better side?”

Both Draco and Narcissa’s eyes widened, “No! I promise, cousin.” Narcissa insisted, “I wish to reconnect with my sister, and Draco would like to get to know the cousins he wasn’t able to before, without the shadow of war hanging over them.”

Sirius sniffed, and sat back down huffily. He looked away from them for a moment, contemplatively. “I don’t know. There’s so much bad blood.”

“Please, Sirius. Please could you just talk to Andromeda for me, she’ll listen to you, but not me.”

Sirius sighed angrily, remembering Remus’ words and cursing his best friend, “I’ll contact ‘Dromeda for you.” He huffed at Narcissa’s surprised and hopeful look. “But it’s up to her if she wants to meet with you.”

Narcissa’s voice was so quiet Sirius wasn’t sure if he’d have heard it if he hadn’t been an animagus, “Thank you.”

**23rd August 1998** **  
** **11am** **  
** **Black Manor – Grantham, Lincolnshire**

The morning of the 23rd August dawned bright and beautifully hot as the Lupins apparated onto the grounds of Black Manor. Sirius had been over to their place the week before whilst Hermione went to her first day of training and the boys were out, and upon seeing the small, quite dilapidated house they were living in he had demanded they move in with him, and would take no arguments.

The Hogwarts renovations finished a few days ago, and as Percy’s birthday had been the day before, there was no further excuse needed for everyone to get together and party til they passed out. Remus and Tonks lifted the knocker and the sound reverberated through the house. When Hermione pulled the door open they were greeted with a strained smile from the witch. It became apparent why she had such a sour look on her face when they stepped into the Manor and could hear Sirius cursing in the background.

“Who the fuck is knocking on the damn door so early in the bloody morning!” Sirius rounded the top of the staircase, rumpled with his hair sticking up everywhere, still in the clothes he’d been wearing last night.

“Morning, Sirius. Looking good!” Tonks snickered, readjusting Teddy on her hip as her and Remus stepped fully into the Manor. 

“Fuck off, Tonks.” Sirius grumbled, coming the rest of the way down the stairs. He brought a strong smell of stale alcohol with him.

“Urgh, Sirius!” Hermione took a step back. “Go take a bloody shower, you stink.”

“Aww Kitten, you always know how to flatter me.”

“She’s right, you stink, go shower Pads. We’ll get settled in, I’m sure Hermione can show us where to go.” Remus said, pushing Sirius away from them towards the stairs.

Sirius grumbled again, only heading back up the stairs when Hermione shooed him away, “Go. I’ll show them where their rooms are and when you come back down I’ll have a sober-up potion for you.”

Sirius had just disappeared up the stairs when Harry and Ron came stumbling down, both looking worse for wear, but at least they’d showered before coming down. Hermione smiled gently at them, and kept her voice quiet when she instructed them to go to the kitchen and she’d be down with the sober-up potion soon.

Hermione quickly showed the Lupins to the suite of two rooms on the third floor in the east wing of the manor that Sirius had designated for them. On her way back down to the kitchen she slipped into the potions room on the second floor to grab three sober-up potions for her stupid housemates who had drunk far too much last night.

When she arrived in the kitchen it was to the sight of her two best friends laying with their heads pitifully against the cold table in the kitchen nook where they ate their breakfast. They both moaned quietly when she pulled a chair out from the table with a scrape and sat down heavily.

“Oh, honestly! You two are pathetic. Why on earth did you drink so much!?” 

“Hermione.. Please not so loud.” Harry groaned into the table, feebly flapping a hand at her.

“Don’t you flap your hand at me, Harry Potter!” Hermione huffed, resolutely ignoring her annoyance as the house elves Sirius thought she wasn’t aware of bustled around the kitchen around them. Finally bringing over platters full of beautiful breakfast food, and a cafetiere of strong coffee. “Here, take the damn sober-up and eat something. You’ll feel better.”

“Thanks, ‘Mione.” Both her boys chorused, taking the sober-up potion gratefully from her. They both swallowed it with a grimace, the colour quickly returning to their cheeks. They then tucked into the food before them with gusto.

She rolled her eyes fondly, and filled her bowl with some yoghurt, fruit and granola. They all ate in comfortable silence for a while, until Sirius stomped grumply into the room, slumping into the free seat beside Hermione and immediately reaching for a mug and the coffee. He poured a large cup, taking two big gulps before saying anything.

He settled back into his seat with a relieved sigh, and sent Hermione a grateful grin when she put the final vial of sober-up in his empty hand. “Marry me, Kitten?”

She laughed lightly, the sound filling the room with happiness, “Not on your life, Sirius Black!”

“One day, Kitten. You’ll realise you love me really.”

“Urgh stop!” Harry finally burst in with a chuckle. “You’ll make me sick.” Sirius flipped his godson off, and laughed when Ron just rolled his eyes at their antics.

The Lupins soon joined them at the table and they all enjoyed a long late breakfast together. The relaxed atmosphere still felt wrong and temporary, but they all revelled in it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the lovely people who've left kudos and/or comments. Please if you like this, consider doing so too, it's really helpful and motivating :D


	6. Potter Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September begins, and brings changes with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no James I'm afraid haha! We're getting there though :P
> 
> Thank you everyone for your kind reviews! If you want to see what Potter Manor looks like I've uploaded the pics for it in the extra info and snippets 'fic'.

**3rd September 1998** **  
** **7pm** **  
** **Black Manor – Grantham, Lincolnshire** **  
** **Residence of Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Remus, Nymphadora, and Teddy Lupin**

Hermione returned from her training exhausted. Healer Mallory had had her pouring over old crumbling scrolls on ancient potions all day and her eyes were strained. She flopped straight onto one of the large sofas in the drawing room where the floo had spat her out. She lay there for a while, just relaxing, when a cup of steaming tea appeared in her vision. She followed the arm attached to the hand holding the cup up to her gently smiling best friend’s face.

“Here, take it ‘Mione.” Harry took a seat on the sofa next to hers, relaxing back into the cushions with a sigh, “You look exhausted.”

She snorted, “Thanks. I am.”

“They’re working you too hard at that apprenticeship of yours, ‘Mione.”

Hermione just scoffed, and raised an incredulous eyebrow at Harry, “I think that’s a case of the pot calling the kettle black, Potter. You think I haven’t noticed how burnt out you are after a long day of training?”

“Touche.” Harry said with a grin. 

“How is it going, anyway?” Hermione asked, taking a large sip of the strong, sweet tea and letting the hot liquid slide down her throat and warm her from the inside.

Harry was still smiling, and it only got wider, “Really good, yeah. As you said they work us hard, but it feels like I’m helping. I love it.” 

Hermione grinned back, happiness and love bursting in her chest. “I’m so proud of you Harry!” She squealed, “You’re going to be an amazing healer!” Harry just smiled helplessly, and they both sat there in a comfortable silence for a while, relaxed and happy to bask in it. 

Just as Hermione’s eyes were beginning to slip closed, the warmth from the tea, and the newly lit fire spreading through her limbs, Harry spoke up again. “So I’ve been thinking.” She furiously blinked her eyes open again, rolling her heavy head to look at Harry. He was looking serious now, and had sat forward, his elbows now resting on his knees. She offered an encouraging hum, gesturing for him to carry on. “Well, we never knew this place existed, right?”

“Right.” Her curiosity piqued, she pulled herself up to sitting, still cradling her tea in her hands.

“So, it stands to reason that Potter cottage where my parents lived wasn't the only Potter residence, right?”

She gave it a moment of thought, before agreeing, “Right.”

“So there’s probably another Potter property somewhere that’s mine that I just don’t know about because Dumbledore didn't see fit to tell me.” There was bitterness in his tone speaking of Dumbledore, even though Harry had forgiven him, there was still a lingering resentment for the way he had treated Harry as a pawn.

She was now fully lucid again, and thinking hard. “It does make sense,” She finally said. She tapped her forefinger on her bottom lip in thought, only stopping herself from getting up and pacing because of how achey her legs and feet were. “But how would you even begin to try and look for that?”

Harry turned and stared at her in consternation, “I hadn’t thought of that.” He frowned and flopped back into the squishy sofa. They both sat there for an indeterminate amount of time, trying to think of a way to discover whether there were any more properties owned by the Potters. 

That’s how Sirius found them when he came bounding into the room roughly half an hour later. “Merlin, look at these sad sods.” They both blinked out of their reveries, and turned to look at Sirius in surprise. “What’s going on in here then?” He stalked across the room to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of Ogden’s finest and a fine cut glass, and poured himself a few fingers.

“Well, I got thinking that if there’s so many Black properties, it’s probably the same for the Potters right? So there must be more than just the cottage mum and dad were living in.”

Sirius scoffed, “Of course there is! When I moved in with them we were living in Potter Manor. That was Charlus and Dorea’s house.” He swallowed hard, and Hermione and Harry pretended they didn't see the tears welling in his grey eyes. He took a quick draft of firewhiskey, “After they both died we found it too painful to live there. So he shut it up with blood wards. You’ll be able to get in Harry.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Really? Where is it, can we go now?!” Harry jumped eagerly to his feet, ready to run out to wherever his ancestral home was.

“Harry!” Hermione had to almost shout to get his attention, “Why don't we wait for the weekend, when everyone’s here and we can all go together?” 

Currently they were the only three in the large Manor. Ron was still at Auror training, which often went overnight as shifts were all over the place. Remus had left a week ago to get ready for the start of term, and Tonks and Teddy were visiting with Andromeda currently. Harry reluctantly agreed, and the rest of the evening was spent with Sirius regaling the two with stories of the mischief he and James had gotten up to at the Potter home, and the creative ways Dorea had come up with to punish them.

**  
** **5th September 1998** **  
** **8am** **  
** **Black Manor – Grantham, Lincolnshire**

The morning of 5th September dawned bright and early, and Harry had thought it would be rather hilarious to treat Sirius like he never got to as a child, so he’d gone into his room at 7am that morning and flopped heavily on top of Sirius, bouncing until the grumpy animagus got up.

They were both sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast, Harry with a manic grin on his face, and Sirius scowling into his coffee, when Hermione came down an hour later. She gestured confused at Sirius behind his back as she made herself a cup of tea, frowning when Harry just shook his head and snickered loudly.

She took her customary seat at the table, making herself a bowl of yoghurt and fruit again as she glanced between the two. When neither of them would look at her or explain, she huffed angrily, “What on earth is going on? Why are you awake already Sirius?”

Harry snickered again, and Sirius turned a fierce glare on his godson that made said godson just roll his eyes. “I woke Sirius up.”

Sirius glared harder as he brought his cup to his lips and took an obnoxiously loud sip, “‘Woke me up’, he says.” Sirius grumbled sarcastically, going as far as to put air quotes around the first part of his sentence.

“Oh, honestly.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re annoyed that he woke you up? That’s a little silly, Sirius.”

“Woke me up is a bit of an understatement, Kitten.” Sirius finally growled, glaring at her now too. “Little fucker decided to come into my room at fuck o’clock in the morning and bounce on me until I got up.”

Hermione turned to Harry, “Harry!” She scolded, trying to stop her lips from twitching in amusement. It had been much too long since she’d seen her friend in such a good mood, and so relaxed.

“Fucking 7am on a Saturday!” Sirius fumed, as he grabbed a crispy piece of bacon and shoved the whole thing into his mouth in one. Though Sirius kept grumbling every few minutes, the rest of breakfast passed with relative peace, Tonks and a sleepy Teddy joining them a few minutes later. 

They were all gathered in the front room ready to leave when Ron finally got up and came downstairs. “Hurry, Ron! Grab some toast or something for the road, and then we can leave.”

**  
** **9:30am** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

Sirius had to apparate them one by one to Potter Manor as he was the only one there who knew where it was. Soon they were all standing assembled on the outskirts of a small village, in front of a large empty field.

“Uh, Sirius.” Harry turned to his godfather, with a slightly worried look on his face, like he thought Sirius had finally gone mad, “There’s nothing here?”

Sirius winked at his godson, “Ahh but there is, Harry. You just can’t see it!” He reached out for Harry’s hand. “Blood wards remember, they’re even stronger than what’s on Black Manor. It’s even stronger than the fidelius. We’ll all only be able to see the place once you’ve gone through the blood wards and allowed us access.”

“How do I do that?”

“Here.” Sirius pulled Harry over to an innocuous looking large rock on the edge of the field by the verge of the road they were all currently standing on. “I’ll make a small cut on your hand, and then you need to press it against this rock and invoke your right as a Potter to enter.” Harry glanced at the rock, and then back at Sirius, who grinned. “Don't worry, son. I’ll help you.”

Sirius held Harry’s hand gently in his, and with a muttered incantation made a small cut in his hand. He gestured to Harry to put his hand against the rock. Harry did so, still looking slightly sceptical.

“Right. Repeat after me.” Sirius looked expectantly at Harry, who nodded hastily. “I, Harry Potter, do so invoke the blood of the Noble House of Potter.” Harry repeated, and all of them watched in awe as the rock under his hand started glowing a resplendent gold. “In doing so, I, Head of House Potter, reveal and re-open the ancestral seat of Potter Manor.” Again Harry repeated Sirius’ words, the glow getting brighter and harder to look at now. “From this day forward until a new Head of House Potter is instated any persons I reveal the location to shall be able to access this home, until I or another member of House Potter do revoke this honour.” The rock flashed a bright silver for a moment and Harry made a pained sound, but didn't remove his hand yet. “Sic fiat semper.” Harry repeated the latin incantation and with a blinding flash the rock was back to looking like the grey innocuous lump it had before. “You can remove your hand now, son.” Sirius said when Harry kept standing there.

Sirius gently took Harry’s hand in his and healed the small cut with a quiet  _ Episkey _ but Harry wasn't paying attention. To the rest of the group nothing had changed, but Harry was standing and staring at the field, awe writ across his features.

Sirius smiled, even though he couldn't currently see Potter Manor he could recall with perfect clarity the beautiful home. “Harry.” He said after giving his godson a moment to appreciate his family home.

“Yeah?” Harry was clearly still distracted, he was looking at Sirius, but his eyes kept darting back to the seemingly empty field every few seconds.

“You need to allow the rest of us to see Potter Manor, Harry.” Sirius said with a chuckle. “It’s basically the same as revealing the location of somewhere under the fidelius. Just say Potter Manor is located in Barnstone, Nottinghamshire.”

Harry did so, and with no fanfare all of them could suddenly see Potter Manor. Hermione gasped in awe, and Ron swore quietly. “Wow! It’s so pretty.” Tonks stepped forward, Teddy held securely in her arms and they all preceded through the intricate wrought iron gates onto the grounds of Potter Manor. 

The grounds were surrounded by very high yew hedges that stretched from either side of the gates out and then up and around the Manor on either side. Before them a large winding path led up to the beautiful front doors surrounded by thriving ivy. Along the winding path ran a tall line of straight trunked poplar trees, partially blocking the Manor from view. To one side of the path stretched a large lush green lawn, broken only by the three golden hoops at either end - a home Quidditch pitch. To the other side of the huge front garden the lawn was broken up by large flower beds, full of plants in bloom still.

They all followed an eager Harry and Sirius up the path towards the Manor, stepping out off the path onto the large round front drive right in front of the house, they were finally able to see Potter Manor in all its glory. Though it was most definitely as large as both Black and Malfoy Manor, it didn't have any of the darkness hanging around that the other Manors did. It was a traditional brick tudor manor house. Stretching out far either side of the front doors, with incredibly large windows at the front. 

They all came to a stop and stared for a few moments in awe at the beautiful Manor. Harry walked up to the front door, then paused and looked back at Sirius, “How are we supposed to get in Sirius?”

Sirius grinned, “Put your hand on the door handle, it’ll recognise you as a Potter and unlock for you. I’m sure there’ll be actual keys in there somewhere if you need keys.”

Harry took a deep breath, smiling back at Hermione when she put a supportive hand on his shoulder, and then stepped forward and wrapped his hand around the ornate doorknob. There was a brief flare of golden light, and then they could all hear a series of clicks as the door was unlocked. When the sound stopped, Harry twisted his hand and pushed the door open slowly.

They all stepped into the wide, brightly lit entrance hall, gazing around at the beauty of Potter Manor inside. Sirius grinned and walked further into the home, peeking into unknown rooms as he went. He came back a couple of minutes later to them still all standing in the foyer, though they were chatting now. Sirius was frowning. “This place is surprisingly clean. It’s kind of suspicious.” He said with narrowed eyes.

Hermione looked around with new eyes, and acknowledged that Sirius was right, this place had been effectively abandoned roughly twenty years ago. Though magic would explain why the building wasn't dilapidated and falling apart after that time, it didn't explain how everything inside wasn't covered in a thick layer of dust. “What’s going on?” She finally asked, sharing worried looks with Harry and Ron.

“I might have an answer,” Sirius finally said, tapping a finger against his chin. He spun around where he was standing, eyes cataloguing everything in the front hall. To everyone’s surprise he suddenly shouted, “Flissy!”

Teddy jumped where he’d been quiet and relaxed in Tonks’ arms and let out a sudden wail. “Sirius!” Tonks scolded in a quiet hiss. 

“Sorry, Tonks,” He said in a whisper, but before anything could be said there was a quiet pop, and suddenly there was an immaculately dressed House-elf standing at the top of the sweeping staircase that led from the ground floor up the first floor.

“Master Sirius?” The House-elf whispered, tears standing out clearly in it’s large eyes. It snapped it’s fingers as it hurried down the stairs, immediately causing Teddy’s cries to quiet as a dummy appeared in his mouth.

“Flissy?” Sirius would deny it, but tears welled in his eyes, and his voice shook. He dropped to his knees and hugged the House-elf when it got close enough. The House-elf hugged him back for a brief moment and then started scolding him good and well for getting sent to Azkaban and not being there to raise Harry.

The rest of them in the hall stood back and watched as Sirius was scolded, Ron and Tonks laughed loudly, Harry chuckled, and Hermione had a smile tugging reluctantly at her lips. When the House-elf had finally finished berating Sirius it turned on the rest of them, its eyes skipping over them until they landed on Harry, at which point they widened impossibly. “Harry Potter?” It whispered, and then turned back to look at Sirius as if to confirm.

“Yeah, Flissy.” Sirius grinned, “Everyone this is Flissy, the Potter’s House-elf, she practically raised us alongside James’ parents. She also helped look after you too, Harry.”

After a teary reunion (on Flissy’s part) with Harry, she insisted on giving them all the tour herself. Unlike Kreacher who had gone practically insane being shut up in a house with only a portrait for company, Flissy seemed to have managed to have kept her sanity completely.

At the end of the tour Flissy insisted on making a large lunch spread for everyone, and would not hear of Hermione helping no matter how much she tried to insist. In the end Flissy rapped her on the knuckles, and sent her out to join everyone else in the parlour with a swat to her bum. Hermione yelped and reluctantly joined them all, settling onto the sofa next to Harry. 

Sirius chuckled at the disgruntled look on her face, “There’s no way she’ll ever let you help, Hermione. Quit while you’re ahead.”

Hermione grumbled, but relaxed into the sofa next to Harry, cuddling up to him when he hugged her to him. She resisted saying anything when Flissy popped into the room with a tray of teas for them, informing them lunch would be ready soon.    
  


**5th September 1998** ****  
**3:30pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

After a deliciously filling lunch of lasagne, garlic bread and salad, Sirius and Harry set to the task of connecting the floo in the large open plan kitchen on Potter Manor solely to the kitchen floo of Black Manor, so there was a quick link between the two homes.

Tonks had disappeared after lunch to take Teddy for a float in the afternoon sun in the pool in the large out building to the left of the Manor. Ron had wandered off to Merlin knows where. Hermione left them all to it, eager to head back to the library Flissy had shown them earlier.

She entered the large room eagerly, eyes scanning over the floor to ceiling bookshelves that filled nearly every wall of the library. The fourth wall had two massive windows either side of a large fireplace. The windows had large bench seats at the bottom, and there were three very comfy looking chairs ranged around the fireplace. There were a few lower bookshelves taking up some of the floor space in the middle of the room. Every bookshelf in the room was filled to the brim with books on every and any subject imaginable. Hermione didn't know where to start. She took a brief moment to breathe in the musky smell of books old and new. Her heart fluttered with excitement.

It took her a little while, but she soon found an interesting sounding book on the subject of experimental magics, and she settled with that into one of the window nooks. She let out a satisfied sigh, and looked out the window over the beautiful back garden on Potter Manor. 

Like the front gardens they were wide and expansive. Flissy hadn’t yet given them a tour of the gardens, so she couldn't wait for that. From where she was sitting she could see the end of the building that housed the pool off to the left, made of the same brick as the manor. There was a large lawn running empty out from the back of the house, broken up by interesting looking sculptures here and there. On the far left she could see the beginnings of a large looking orchard, and in the far back a shimmer that suggested there was a lake. Starting at the back right of the house was a sparse wood, that thickened and grew denser the further away from the house it got. It looked well maintained and even from where she was sitting she could see some rare potions ingredients growing in the brush at the base of the trees.

She’d just cracked open the book and settled in to start to read it when the doors to the library swung open with a creak, and Ron’s fiery head popped ‘round the corner. He smiled at her, and stepped into the room, “Hey, ‘Mione. Thought I’d find you in here.” He came further into the room, and settled into one of the chairs in front of the currently dormant fireplace. 

Hermione smiled, and set her book in her lap, “Hi, Ron.” She waited for a moment, ‘cause he was clearly wanting to ask her something, but when they’d sat in silence for a few moments, and Ron had ineffectually opened and closed his mouth a few times, she finally spoke again. “What’s going on, Ron?”

“‘Mione.” Ron sounded pained, refusing to meet her eyes, “I think- I-” He stopped and swallowed, angrily rubbing his eyes. 

Hermione sighed, suspecting where this was going, as she had been thinking the same thing for the last couple of weeks. She put her book aside, and took the seat next to Ron. She reached out and took one of Ron’s hands in hers.

He looked up at her, tears standing out in his bright blue eyes. He swallowed thickly again, and looked away, “‘Mione. Hermione. I think we...”

She interrupted when it was clear Ron didn't know where to go with the sentence, “Should break up?”

His head snapped up and they stared at each other for a silent moment, “Yeah.” His voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry. I just… we’re better as friends aren’t we?”

It was Hermione’s turn to swallow thickly, choking back the tears welling in her eyes too, “I agree.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I mean, this hasn’t really felt like we’re dating, you know? It’s just felt like a friendship.” Ron nodded, looking unspeakably relieved. “We’ve only had sex, what, once? And kissed a handful of times?”

Ron laughed rustily, “Yeah.”

“That’s not normal for a relationship in the first few months is it? From everything I’ve read.” 

“Only you ‘Mione.” Ron laughed louder at that, and grinned at Hermione, “I do love you. Just, I love you like a sister, or best friend.”

“Me too, Ron.” She leaned forward, still holding one of Ron’s hands, and pressed a chaste kiss to Ron’s lips. 

“I’m gonna move home.”

Hermione gasped, sitting up straighter, “No! You don’t have to do that, Ron!”

“I think it’s for the best, ‘Mione. I love living with you and Harry, but I think it could end up being awkward.” Ron tightened his hands where they were caught up in Hermione’s, “Plus, you know how I feel about charity. I wanna save up during my Auror training, find somewhere to live. You know?”

Hermione smiled and squeezed his hands, “That’s a great idea, Ron. We’ll miss you though, and you know Harry would argue it’s not charity!” Ron laughed, and they both relaxed back in their chairs, feeling like a weight had lifted. 

After not very long Ron left Hermione sitting in the library to read, and headed back to Black Manor from outside the gates of Potter Manor to pack up his things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	7. September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday shenanigans this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry still no James haha!! But I promise he'll be here soon, and we'll get into the meat of the story.

**6th September 1998** **  
** **10am**   
**Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire** **  
** **Residence of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger**

The next day Harry and Hermione floo’d into Potter Manor with everything they owned in tow, and moved in. They both took up in large suites on the sprawling third floor east wing of the Manor. Sirius decided to stay living with the Lupins at Black Manor, though with their kitchen floos linked it certainly wouldn’t stop easy access between the two houses. 

Flissy was all too happy to have ‘Master Potter’ back in the Manor and, despite Hermione’s insistence to the contrary, cooked them up a large breakfast of eggy bread, crispy bacon, eggs in multiple different ways, and buttered toast. There was also a large cafetiere of fresh coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice. The two had arrived through the floo to be greeted with this amazing spread, and after Flissy had ushered them to unpack, had sat down at the table with wide eyes. With a quick swish of his wand Harry sent his patronus rushing off to invite Sirius, Tonks, and Teddy to join them for the insane amount of food Flissy had made.

**  
****19th September 1998** **  
****8pm** **  
****Potter Manor** **\- Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

Before Hermione realised, it was her 19th birthday, and despite her complete insistence that she didn't want presents or any kind of party, she just knew Harry was planning something.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she got home from work that night and was ushered straight from the floo to her room by an insistent Flissy. Hermione huffed but let the House-elf fuss over her and transfigure some beautiful flowing purple dress robes that hugged her chest and flowed out from her waist in layers of silk. Flissy then spent about half an hour wrangling Hermione’s hair into some semblance of smooth glossy curls.

She sighed in annoyance again, which earned her a scolding slap from Flissy. So she stood quietly whilst Flissy carried on fussing with her until she was deemed presentable. Before Hermione was able to fathom how pretty Flissy had managed to make her look, and thank her, Flissy had popped out of the room. Presumably to do some preparation for the damn party Hermione had said she didn't bloody want!

Hermione sighed irritably again, and was just about to hide herself in her bathroom to take a nice relaxing bath instead of mingling when there was a knock on her door and she knew she was caught. “Come in.” She called.

Molly Weasley’s head appeared around the door, a large grin overtaking her face when she saw Hermione, “Well you look lovely, dear.” She stepped fully into the room, and came over to sweep Hermione into a tight hug. “Happy birthday, Hermione. Now we know you don't like a big fuss, so I promise we kept it to just Order and DA members tonight, okay dear?”

Hermione wasn't able to get a word in edgeways before Molly was herding her out of her nice cosy bedroom and downstairs to the ground floor where the large formal dining room of Potter Manor was located. Hermione entered the room to a joyous shout of “Happy birthday Hermione!” that brought a large smile to her face, and tears to her eyes.

Harry was the first to come over, sweeping her into a bear hug that she returned. She brought her lips to his ear, and whispered threateningly, “I know it was you who did this when I didn't want it. I’m going to get you back, Potter.” She grinned widely at him when he pulled away with a sparkle in his eyes.

“I look forward to it ‘Mione.” He said, stepping back to allow others to hug her and wish her happy birthday.

Sirius was the last to reach her, and as he hugged her, he whispered, “Don’t put it all on Harry, Kitten. I had a hand in this too.” He winked at her when she pulled back, and sauntered away before she was able to scold him.

“Oh, thank you, everyone. Though I’m almost a hundred percent sure I said no presents,” She said, sending a glare at the large pile of presents on the sideboard. There was a chuckle around the room, and the Weasley twins sent her a cheeky wink.

They all took seats around the large dining table when Flissy popped in and ordered them to. As soon as they’d sat down an impressive spread of delicious looking dishes appeared on the table. They dug in, and dinner was a cheerful affair; good-natured ribbing, and jokes and rude comments being thrown about the room, especially from the end of the table where someone had not thought to separate the twins, Sirius and Remus. Every time Molly shot them a glare, or a sharp reprimand a chuckle passed ‘round the table and she was waved away.

After a delicious main course, Flissy disappeared all of the food - no doubt sent to the kitchen to be packed up later for leftovers for the next few days - and then floated an amazing three tiered beautifully decorated cake into the room.

Hermione’s eyes widened and she let out an awed gasp as Flissy carefully floated the beautiful concoction to set down in front of Hermione.

“Missy ‘Mione be blowing out the candles and making a wish now.” Flissy declared, turning off the magically run lights in the room with a snap of her fingers and lighting the candles on the cake.

“Oh, Flissy. This is beautiful.” Hermione breathed, “But you really didn't have to go to all this fuss for me!”

Flissy waved her objections away, “Candles Missy ‘Mione.” Flissy demanded. Hermione complied, not wanting to get rapped on the knuckles by Harry’s tenacious House-elf on her birthday. As she closed her eyes and blew the candles out she made a wish.

After everyone had devoured a large slice of the beautiful lemon and raspberry cake, Flissy and Molly sent them out of the dining room and on their way. Harry led the way to the large parlour on the other side of the house which had been decorated as though some kind of birthday store explosion had gone on in there. Hermione’s eyes slid towards Sirius who sent her a smirk and stepped over towards the large table set up in the corner with all the alcohol on.

“Harry, this was wonderful, but you really didn’t have to.” Hermione turned to Harry again.

He rolled his eyes, “You need to give this up, ‘Mione. You’re going to have birthday parties like this for the rest of your life.” He grinned and danced away from her when she went to slap him. “Enjoy it! Get drunk! Let loose! It’s your birthday after all.”

Hermione sighed and followed Sirius over to the alcohol table, coming up to stand beside him as he poured himself a generous glass of what looked like Muggle scotch. “Ahh the lovely birthday girl. What can I do you for, Kitten?”

“Sirius.” 

“Oh no, the serious voice.” He joked, winking at her. “Come on you must want something to drink, love?” When she wrinkled her nose, he gestured at the wide array of alcohol and mixers laid out in front of them, Muggle and Magical both. “Will you allow me to make you something I think you’ll like?”

Hermione smiled, and found herself nodding. Something about Sirius just put her at ease, despite how much he antagonised her. She watched as he grabbed a few bottles, and deftly mixed her what looked like a dangerous cocktail. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Sirius?” She asked as he handed her the cocktail.

He just grinned, “I heard what Harry said, and I agree. You need to let loose, Kitten.”

Midnight found Hermione doing just that. The last few hours had been some of the best fun she’d had in years, and she found she didn't actually mind celebrating her birthday if it was a party with all the people she loved.

Most of the older adults had left now, leaving Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, the twins, Luna, and Neville the only ones still in the parlour - most of them having come back from the final year at Hogwarts especially for Hermione’s birthday party. Hermione could hear Sirius and Remus having a lively game of something or other in the games room attached to the parlour.

“I suggest a game of something!” Ginny declared from her place draped over Harry’s lap. Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable with his ex-girlfriend’s position. The two had tried dating for about a week after the war ended before Harry realised Ginny wasn’t actually the right gender for him, and Ginny had moved on to a new flavour every week, enjoying herself to every single one of her brothers’ dismay. 

The twins looked distinctly excited at Ginny’s suggestion, “What kind of game, oh little sister?” Fred asked.

“Well, definitely not spin the bottle, because half of us here are related.” The rest of the Weasleys wrinkled their noses in disgusted agreement with Ginny. “But Truth or Dare could work.” She had a calculating twinkle in her eyes, and Harry and Hermione exchanged horrified looks.

“But people can just lie.” Ron pointed out.

“Not with this they can’t.” Ginny said with a smirk, sitting up and settling back next to Harry the right way up (to his relief) and pulling out a small bottle of clear liquid.

“Is that veritaserum?!” Hermione demanded. Despite the slur her drunkenness put in her voice, Harry and Ron exchanged terrified looks with the twins, that look on her face never spelled anything good. 

Ginny, with the self-preservation of a Gryffindor, grinned and nodded. She pulled a full bottle of firewhiskey off the floor near her’s and Harry’s feet, and before anyone else could protest, she poured nearly half the bottle of veritaserum into the alcohol.

“Ginny!” Hermione’s eyes had widened. “You could poison us! How do you know that was the right amount?” She demanded.

Ginny gestured drunkenly towards the door through to the room Sirius and Remus were in. “Sirius told me.” She said with a big grin. She conjured eight shot glasses on the table before her, and glared around at everyone, daring them to protest to taking part. No one did. “Drink up.” She said with a cackle, sending a glass towards everyone with a lazy wave of her hand.

They all grabbed their shot glasses out of the air, and with a quick cheers they all downed the shots, grimacing as the alcohol slid down their throats - it was called  _ fire _ whiskey for a reason after all.

“We’re all Gryffindors except Luna over there, you really think anyone’s gonna back out on a dare, Gin?” Fred asked from where he was laying in front of the large fire.

Ginny just shrugged, “We’ll see won’t we.” She winked at Neville when he pinked slightly. “Now, ‘Mione, it’s your birthday so you can go first.” Ginny gestured graciously at Hermione, who scrunched her nose as she tried to think of a question to ask. She turned to George first, lounging on the same sofa as her, practically lying down next to her. “Truth or Dare, George?”

He jolted slightly, not realising she was looking at him, and stared up at her from his reclined position for a moment, “Alright, bring it Granger. Dare.”

Hermione was stumped for a moment, glancing ‘round the room for help, when her eyes caught on Ginny’s feet still in her ridiculously high heels. “Wear Ginny’s heels for the rest of the night, and all of tomorrow day.” She declared, gesturing towards the six-inch monstrosities.

Ginny cackled, and pulled them off her feet, quickly enlarging them to George’s foot size, “You break them, you buy them.” She threatened. George wrinkled his nose, but with everyone’s eyes on him got up and grabbed the heels out of Ginny’s hands. 

“Oh god, Gin.” He said after he’d slipped them on, wobbling dangerously as he tried to stand still, “How the fuck do you walk in these?”

Ginny just laughed at her big brother and relaxed back into the cushions of her sofa with a smirk. “Have fun, George.” They all laughed as he stumbled back to his seat, and collapsed gracelessly down.

“I’m gonna get you back for this, Granger.” He said threateningly. “When you least expect it!” Hermione just laughed.

“Your turn!” Ginny shouted gleefully.

The game went on like that for a while longer, every silly little dare that people could come up with being completed by the Gryffindors - who refused to back down -, and Luna - who had no shame. They all got steadily more drunk, taking swigs from an un-laced bottle of firewhiskey that got passed around, saving the laced stuff for when they moved onto truths.

Hermione was now laying across George’s lap comfortably, her hair mussed up from the lap she’d been forced to fly around the room on Harry’s broom, and a hickey prominently on her neck from Luna being dared to by Fred.

When Luna turned to her and said “Truth or Dare, Hermione?” Hermione thought she’d be safe saying truth with Luna, not wanting to have to get up from her comfortable position to complete a dare. She couldn't be more wrong. Ginny gleefully passed Hermione the veritaserum-laced firewhiskey, which she took a quick swig of and turned expectantly to Luna. “What’s a secret you’ve never told anyone?” Luna asked it like it was an intriguing scientific question, not a highly personal question that could have any number of embarrassing answers.

She stuttered for a moment, expecting the veritaserum to take over immediately, but she probably had too many options. For a second a thought floated into her head, and she tried to shake it away, but unfortunately the veritaserum picked it up and threw it out of her mouth into the room, and she found herself blurting it out, “I fancied Remus when he was our Professor.” She clapped her hands over her mouth horrified.

A loud bark of laughter came from the other side of the room where, to her utter horror, Sirius and Remus had entered the room, clearly finished with whatever they’d been playing. Remus looked mildly uncomfortable and Sirius looked gleeful. “Had a crush on Professor Moony hey ‘Mione. Don’t blame you,” Sirius hooked his arm around Remus’ neck, “He is a handsome bugger.” Sirius rubbed his hand on top of Remus’ head, giving him a noogie.

Remus growled and pulled away, giving Sirius a shove that just caused him to laugh.

“Oh, Remus! I'm so sorry.” Hermione was flushed with embarrassment whilst all her friends laughed good naturedly. She struggled to sit up from George’s lap, who just laughed at her when she ended up just flopping back down when moving became too much effort in her drunken state.

Remus just chuckled slightly, still looking a bit uncomfortable, “Think nothing of it Hermione.” She opened her mouth to apologise again, and he waved her off, “It’s fine, Hermione. Now I must be off, Dora will be waiting for me.” Remus turned to leave the room, giving them all a cheery wave. He grabbed Sirius as he went, “Come on, Padfoot. Leave the kids to it.” Sirius, still cackling, followed Remus out the room with a wave over his shoulder.

Hermione pressed her hands to her face, covering her embarrassed blush, “Oh, that was the worst.” She moaned into her hands. She felt George’s laugh vibrate through his chest above, and the rest of them laughed too.

“It was fine, ‘Mione!” Ginny declared, still chuckling. Hermione reached up and slapped George’s chest as he was the only close enough for her to get. She then heaved herself up off his lap, pulling herself to standing and waiting a dizzy moment whilst the room spun around her.

“I’m off to bed.” She declared when she’d finally got her bearings, waving off all their protests. “I’m much too drunk, I just wanna go lay down.” She bid them all farewell and lots of profuse ‘thank yous’ for her presents and their company and then headed up to go to bed. Making sure to grab herself a large glass of water as she went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got 27 chapters written so far, and I'm pretty close to finishing! Think there may end up being 30/31 chapters? Way more than I was expecting to write haha
> 
> Let me know what you thought :D


	8. ... and what is now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's making a reappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally there!!! You've all been waiting for him to come back, so here he is hehe :D

**31st October 1998** **  
** **10pm** **  
** **Potter Cottage – Godric’s Hollow** **  
** **Residence of James and Lily Potter**

When James woke he was lying on the cold floor of his living room, surrounded by dust and broken furniture, the night sky above him was dark and full of clouds and – wait – James sat up suddenly, horror spearing through him when he realised he could see the sky from his living room. He suddenly remembered he hadn’t been here in the moments before he woke up and jumped to his feet, ignoring the vertigo that hit when he did.

He looked down at the weird egg-shaped device still clutched in his hand, staring for a moment, before tucking it away in his pocket. He stepped through the destroyed doorway into the hall where he last remembered standing against Voldemort. He thought he’d died. He thought - Lily! Harry! Where were they?! 

With a hoarse gasp he bound up the stairs, ignoring the aches and pains radiating through his body as he did so. He skidded to a horrified stop in the doorway of Harry’s bedroom. It was utterly destroyed, and looked dilapidated - abandoned. James gasped for air, panic clawing its way up his throat as he slid slowly to the floor, unable to tear his eyes away from the destroyed cot his son had been in when he last saw him.

He didn't know how long he sat there for before he started shivering uncontrollably. He finally pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the tears frozen to his face in the cold October air (at least he assumed it was still October). He didn't know what had happened. One moment he’d been in his living room, then Voldemort had attacked and he’d grabbed the egg-thing, and was suddenly in front of Voldemort. He vividly remembered seeing the sickly green light of the Avada Kedavra coming for him, and hoping Lily would manage to get her and Harry away quick enough. 

But here he was, and his house was destroyed. He could only hope they’d managed to get away and the destruction of the house was done in Voldemort’s anger. He picked his way through the cottage, looking for evidence of something, anything, to tell him what had happened. He found his wand buried under the same debris he’d woken up under in the living room, but didn't find anything else of note.

With a deep breath to keep a hold of his emotions he got ready to apparate to the person who could give him answers; Dumbledore. With a blink of an eye, and a loud crack, James Potter apparated away from Potter Cottage.

Never in his wildest day-dreams did he expect the answers that were awaiting him.

**31st October 1998** **  
** **11pm** **  
** **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - Scotland**

James appeared with a crack outside the gates of Hogwarts, and stared in shock at the wrought iron gates. They looked very different to the last time he’d seen them. He sucked in a breath, and stepped forward to the gates to push them open. The wards stung his hand when he tried to push them open, and he jumped back surprised. He furrowed his brow and examined the small burn on the tips of his fingers. 

“What the fuck?!” James whispered to himself. The wards hadn’t covered the gates of Hogwarts last time he’d been here, and he couldn't believe that they would’ve changed it so quickly.

“‘arry?” A deep voice said, confused, and James looked up to come face to face with Hagrid.

“Hagrid!” James exclaimed, ignoring what the half-giant had said.

Hagrid looked suddenly shocked as he linked eyes with James, and took a sharp step back from the gates, as though James might be able to get to him through them and the wards. “Who ‘re yeh?” 

James blinked, “What do you mean, who am I? It’s James. James Potter.” He gestured to himself as though that would help Hagrid.

Hagrid blinked at him, “Yeh can’ be. ‘E’s dead!” Hagrid exclaimed.

James stared, blanking in his shock. “I’m definitely not dead, Hagrid! Let me in please, I have some urgent questions for Dumbledore.”

Hagrid frowned again, “Stay ‘ere.” He said, and before James could ask what Hagrid was doing, the half-giant was hurrying up the pathway to the castle. James stared after him open-mouthed for a few minutes, then took a seat on a small stone he transfigured into a stool. 

It took about ten minutes before he saw Hagrid striding back down the path, a smaller figure hurrying alongside him. As they got closer he could hear the tail end of the sentence the Witch was saying, and he realised it was Professor McGonagall from the thick Scottish brogue.

“...and you just left him standing there, Hagrid? What if he just left?!”

“Bu’, Professor, there wouldn’a been ‘nother way to come get yeh.”

Professor McGonagall hummed in agreement but didn't say anything else as they came close enough to the gates to speak to James. James stood from his stool, vanished it, and stepped up to the gates. “Who are you?” McGonagall asked crisply, levelling her wand at him.

He held his hands up carefully, truly worried now. What in Merlin’s name was going on? “It’s James, Professor? James Potter. You’ve known me since I was eleven!”

“James Potter has been dead since 1981. I am no fool.” McGonagall’s voice was like a whip, “I don’t know how you came to have anything to use for polyjuice for him, but I will not hesitate to hex you.” She pursed her lips tightly, “Now. Tell me who you are.”

“My name is James Potter, I swear to you.” James stepped back when McGonagall raised her wand higher, fear and confusion choking him. “What do you mean since 1981?”

“I’ll not answer any of your questions until you tell me who you are.” McGonagall snapped, fury and anguish making her voice harsh.

“Look, I’m telling the truth! I don’t know how to prove it to you.”

There was a beat of silence, Hagrid shifted uneasily. McGonagall pursed her lips and eyed James mutely for a long minute. “Very well. You may come to my office and I will have the potions master bring me some veritaserum.” James swallowed, but nodded after a moment to think it over.

“Where’s Dumbledore?” He asked as he followed McGonagall up the long pathway to the school after the gates had been opened briefly to let him in. Hagrid left them to head back to his hut and Fang. She sent off a patronus as they walked, instructing it to ask for veritaserum to be delivered to her office.

McGonagall glanced away from his searching gaze, “He died two years ago.” She said brusquely. James stumbled in shock, eyes wide as he stared in horror at McGonagall.

“Pardon?” He choked out.

“I will explain when we get to my office.” She said decidedly, leading him into Hogwarts and up the grand staircase towards what he suddenly realised was the Headmaster’s office. 

“Professor?” He questioned, following her up the spiral staircase to the Headmaster’s office.

“Take a seat, Mister…” She trailed off, clearly unwilling to call him a name she didn't yet believe belonged to him. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea, please.” McGonagall nodded sharply, and after pouring him a cup of tea, added three drops of veritaserum carefully. He willingly swallowed the whole cup of hot tea in one go, burning his tongue slightly and regretting it.

“Now.” McGonagall sat back in the Headmaster’s chair stiffly, “What is your name, and date of birth?”

“James Charlus Potter.” James’ voice was monotone, a byproduct of the veritaserum. “27th March 1960.”

McGonagall blinked, genuinely surprised, and still disbelieving that James Potter was really sitting there alive and in front of her. After more than an hour of a rather intense interrogation, McGonagall and James both sat back exhausted. McGonagall was finally convinced that James was who he said he was; partially thanks to the veritaserum, and the fact that if he had taken polyjuice, it would have worn off by now.

She stood from her chair in a rush, and pulled James into a tight hug that lasted a long moment. She pulled back to hold him at arm's length, “My dear boy, how in Merlin’s name did you survive?”

“I don't know. I really don’t. One minute Voldemort is breaking into my house and shooting the killing curse at me, the next I’m waking up in my destroyed living room, with the whole place abandoned and dilapidated.” James took the egg-shaped device out of his pocket carefully, and placed it on the desk in front of McGonagall.

“What is this?” She reached out for the device, but James stopped her before she touched it.

“Don’t!” McGonagall pulled her hand back sharply. “I touched that thing, whatever it is, and then something happened to me.”

“What happened, Mr Potter?”

“I was in the living room, and I touched that, and then I was suddenly in the front hall standing in front of Voldemort, and then I thought I died. I don't know how I got between the two rooms, but I think it has something to do with it?” James frowned. “Now please, tell me, what did you mean by ‘since 1981’? Is it not 1981 anymore?”

“Oh.” McGonagall sat back down heavily, a hand to her chest, “It is currently the 31st October 1998.” She glanced at the old Muggle watch on her wrist for a moment, “Well, as it is past midnight it is now November.” She finally told him, after a moment's hesitation. James choked in shock on the mouthful of tea he’d just taken.

“What?!” 

At that moment, one of the portraits - none of whom had spoken yet - spoke up, and James’ head jerked up in surprise at the familiar voice, “I think it best if you let me explain everything to Mr Potter, Minerva.” Albus Dumbledore said, the ever-present twinkle in his eye.

**12th November 1998** **  
** **10am** **  
****Ministry of Magic - London** **  
** **Minister Shacklebolt’s office**

They let James adjust for two weeks before they told anyone about his return. He had spent those two weeks locked away in the secret rooms they’d given him in the castle, mourning his beloved wife’s loss, and his chance to see his son grow up.

Yes, he was alive, but he was truly alone. Lily dead, Sirius and Remus now forever seventeen years older than him, and his son only three years younger. What was he to do? In a morbid way that James tried to avoid thinking about, because it sent him spiraling down a dark road, he wished he had died like he was supposed to on the night Voldemort attacked.

At that moment, whilst James wallowed in his sadness and let his grief overtake him, Headmistress McGonagall was meeting with Minister Shacklebolt.

Kingsley held up a hand, “Let me just see if I got this straight.” McGonagall gestured at him to go ahead, “Two weeks ago an alive James Potter, father of Harry Potter, arrived at Hogwarts?”

“Yes.” McGonagall answered crisply.

“And once you verified his identity you did not instantly take him to see his son?”

McGonagall sighed, “No, I did not. He asked that he be allowed some time to… adjust… to the news. He had just found out his wife is dead, his friends are all so much older than him, and his son is only three years younger. I thought I should abide by his wishes.”

Kingsley nodded in understanding, “So why are you coming to me, Minerva? Before even his own family has been informed of his miraculous return?”

McGonagall sniffed, “Two reasons. One; he needs to be reinstated as alive so he may access all that entails, and we both know how long that can take to push through - the sooner the better.”

“This is true. I will start the process immediately.” Kingsley made a note on a spare piece of parchment, the scratch of his quill filling the quiet of his office. “And the second?”

“The object that we believe caused this to happen. His wife was an unspeakable, and she had it home to research it. I think it would be helpful to everyone to know what this device does.”

“I see,” Kingsley said, scratching his chin with a large finger. “Can I see it?”

“Indeed.” McGonagall said crisply, pulling a wrapped package out of her pocket. “Do not touch it, Minister. We do not know what it does truly.”

Kingsley leant forward with interested eyes as McGonagall carefully unwrapped the device. “Do you know anything about it?”

“I can tell you what Mr Potter told me. Also, now it has affected him he can hold it with it having no difference whatsoever to him.”

Kingsley hummed in interest, still examining the strange object. He made a go-ahead motion at McGonagall, “Tell me all you know then, Minerva. I have a feeling the next few months are going to be interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm nearly done with this story (28 chapters out of about 30 written), so once I've completed I'll do updates every other day until it's all up!
> 
> Let me know what you thought.


	9. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ohoho it's a reunion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely comments and kudoses <3 Here's another one! I'm so close to being finished writing this, so updates are gonna be frequent.

**3rd December 1998** **  
** **9am** **  
** **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - Scotland**

“Mr Potter, Kingsley succeeded in getting you reinstated over a week ago.” McGonagall stood in front of James, who’d been staring into space for the last while - he wasn't actually sure how long for. He hmm'd noncommittally, not really paying attention to her. “Mr Potter.” She snapped sharply. He jumped, and looked up at McGonagall, surprised to see her standing in front of him.

“Professor? Is everything alright?”

“Potter… James… you need to get out.” 

“Get out?” James frowned at her as she took the seat beside him, handing him a hot cup of tea that he hadn't noticed her holding. He cradled between his hands, letting it warm him from the outside.

“You’ve been shut up in this room since you got back. I know why, but you need more interactions than me and the House-elves.” 

James stared down at his hands, still wrapped around his un-drunken tea. “How?” He finally whispered. “How am I supposed to move on, everyone I knew is dead or have lived their lives without me!” His voice rose as he spoke until he was nearly shouting.

McGonagall reached out and took one of his hands between hers, “James. I know it’s hard. Believe me.” She insisted, squeezing his hand. He was suddenly reminded that McGonagall had once been married, so would certainly understand more than most. “But you need to see people, your son needs to know you're alive. Kingsley has reinstated you fully now, so you can move around freely.”

“I know.” James took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

McGonagall sniffed, “Of course. But thank me by seeing your friends and family, by getting better, by letting yourself heal.” James nodded, swallowing back a fresh set of tears. “Now, I have organised for Mr Lupin to come get you. He is waiting in my office.”

James took a deep breath, and nodded reluctantly. If he didn't do this now he never would.

**3rd December 1998** **  
** **10:30am** **  
** **Black Manor - Grantham, Lincolnshire** **  
** **Residence of Sirius Black, Remus, Nymphadora, and Teddy Lupin**

It had taken a while to convince Remus to lower his wand when James had walked into McGonagall’s office, and longer for them both to convince him that James really was who he said he was. Remus had then launched himself into a surprised James’ arms and hugged him so tight James lost his breath, holding him close and sobbing into James’ messy black hair. James had hugged back just as tight, and wondered why he’d waited so long to see his friends again.

It didn't matter how many years separated them, they were still the same men, tempered and hardened by war maybe, but they had grown from boys to men together. When Remus had finally pulled back, tears still swimming in his blue eyes, James had grinned through his own tears, looked Remus up and down and said, “You got old, Moony.” Remus had laughed rustily, punched James in the shoulder and pulled him back into a hug.

“I’ll have to apparate you off-grounds, and then walk you in.” Remus had said minutes later. “The floo’s pretty much closed off to everyone.” James had nodded and the two old friends had walked out of Hogwarts down to the apparition point together, Remus trying to catch James up on as much as he could - everything that McGonagall wouldn't have known.

They appeared with a crack outside of Black Manor and Remus led James through the wards. “Sirius is gonna take a lot of convincing,” Remus pointed out as they walked up the driveway, the weak December sun shining on them.

James laughed, “Yeah, fucker.”

Remus left James outside the front doors for a moment, “Wait here, I’m going to try and explain this to Sirius as best as I can first.” James ended up waiting a while, flinching when he suddenly heard a loud shout from within the Manor. 

“What  _ THE FUCK _ , Moony!?” That was Sirius’ voice, slightly deeper and rougher with age, but unmistakable. “So you go to Hogwarts where McGonagall just tells you this random person is James  _ fucking _ Potter back from the dead, and you just, what, shrug and say sure, sounds REALLY FUCKING LEGIT?!!” 

Remus didn't get a chance to respond before the doors to Black Manor were banging open with a wave of Sirius ‘ hand and the man himself was standing there, looking rather crazed, his wand levelled straight at James who took a big step back and held up his empty hands.

“Who the hell are you?!” Sirius demanded. Remus sent James an apologetic glance from behind Sirius but was blocked from intervening by the hand Sirius flung back at him with a snarl of “Stay the fuck back, Moony.”

“I’m James Charlus Potter.” James said calmly, swallowing tightly when Sirius stepped closer and shoved his wand into James’ neck.

“No see, my best friend was killed seventeen years ago by a traitorous rat and the most vile Wizard ever known. So pull the other fucking one!” Sirius was practically spitting in his rage, “I’ll ask you one more time. Who. The fuck. Are you? No lies.”

James lowered his hands slightly, placatingly, “Look, Pads, I promise you. It’s James. McGonagall interviewed me under veritaserum, and Moony and her both stayed with me for more than an hour to make sure I wasn’t someone using polyjuice.”

Sirius snarled. “Alright. Well you’re gonna stand out here for two fucking hours, and not move a muscle whilst I watch you to make sure. Then I’m gonna get ‘Dromeda to come legilimens you…”

A pretty woman with bright pink hair came to stand in the doorway next to Remus, passing him a baby with turquoise hair that instantly shifted to the exact shade of Remus’ sandy hair when he took him. James blinked in shock at the sudden change - it wasn’t every day you saw a Metamorphmagus after all. The only one he’d ever met was actually Andromeda’s daughter. He was pulled out of his contemplation when the woman interrupted Sirius briefly, “Sirius, I don't think-”

“Shut it, Tonks. She’ll come because her head of House asks her to.” Sirius barked over his shoulder, glancing back at her briefly. He ignored the loud scoff from the unknown woman - Tonks? Wait wasn’t that Andromeda’s husband’s name? And turned back to scowl at James, “Tell me something only James Potter would know.” He demanded.

James swallowed and lowered his hands fully, letting them hang by his side. He took a moment to think, “I was so scared about proposing to Lily that you got me really drunk and high and we made out.”

Sirius gaped at James, a little bit of colour rising in his cheeks. Remus and the woman meanwhile had both burst out laughing, Remus was having to hold himself up by holding onto the doorframe, and the baby in his arms was so delighted at all the laughter that it started giggling. Sirius turned and glared at the lot of them, which did nothing to stop them.

Sirius turned back to James, disbelief on his face, “James?” He whispered, completely shocked. 

“It’s me, Pads.” James took a step forward, “I promise.”

Sirius lifted his wand again, “Wait.” He snapped, “We’re gonna wait for an hour. Then I’ll believe you.” Sirius conjured a chair, slumped down into it, and with a wave of his hand summoned a glass of firewhiskey. 

James took the time to examine his old friend. And old was the right word. Sirius looked exhausted, though from what James understood from McGonagall and Remus, he looked ten years younger than he had fresh from Azkaban. The thought of Sirius being locked in that place for twelve years had given James nightmares when McGonagall first informed him, and still made him uneasy.

Remus sighed and rolled his eyes at Sirius’ impetuousness. He handed the unknown baby off to the woman - who headed back into the house with a roll of her eyes - and quickly conjured two more chairs, settling himself in one and gesturing for James to take the other. Sirius sent Remus a pout to which the werewolf rolled his eyes and ignored him.

“Who’s the bird?” James asked after a few beats of surprisingly un-awkward silence. 

Sirius grinned at that, and wiggled his eyebrows at Remus, who just snorted at Sirius’ antics. “That’s Moony’s wife!” Sirius confessed eagerly, grinning as James’ face blanked in surprise.

James turned to stare at Remus who was turning red, “What?” Remus nodded, a sly grin on his face even as he blushed, “Moony? The man who said his furry little problem meant he would never marry? That man? The one who insisted he’d be alone forever?!”

Sirius cackled, obviously loving having someone else to take the piss out of Remus with him, “Yep!” He crowed cheerfully, “That man!”

“Alright, Pads.” He turned to James, “That’s Nymphadora, though don't call her that, she loathes it. Tonks or Dora is safest.” He said with a fond grin.

“Wait!” James held up a hand, sitting forward eagerly, “Nymphadora? Wasn’t that Andromeda’s little girl?” Sirius cackled again as Remus’ blush got deeper.

“Yes! She’s what, thirteen years younger than you, Moony?” Sirius waggled his eyebrows, and Remus dropped his head into hands with a muffled groan, nodding his head. “Tonks told me all about it when I came back,” Sirius told James gleefully, “She practically had to drag him down the aisle so she could be assured he wouldn't run away screaming about how he was too old, or poor, or dangerous, or some such rot.” Sirius and James both rolled their eyes, much too used to all of Remus’ excuses.

“You both suck.” Remus complained without much bite to his words, he was too happy to have them both back after feeling like the only one left for most of his life.

“Wait, wait!” Sirius exclaimed, with a manic grin, “Tell Jamesy the best part!”

Remus sighed, but couldn't control his large smile, “I have a son!” James shouted and jumped to his feet, pulling Remus into a large hug, laughing joyously.

“Was he that little blue-haired tyke?” Remus nodded, a happy smile on his face, “Merlin, a Metamorphmagus!”

“Just like Dora,” Remus said with a sappy grin. James and Sirius spent the next while ribbing their friend for all the times he said he would never get married or have children.

Finally an hour passed and with a shout of joy Sirius had leapt to his feet and pulled James into a hug that had them both clinging tightly, and if there were some tears, well who could blame them?

  
  


**4th December 1998** ****  
**7:45am** **  
** **Black Manor - Grantham, Lincolnshire**

Despite Sirius trying to convince him the day before, James had insisted he wanted a day to settle before meeting his son again, now seventeen years older than the last time he saw him. So Remus and Sirius spent the day catching up with James and giving him the tour of Black Manor. James had spent the night barely sleeping, too worried about seeing Harry the next day.

He’d finally given up trying to sleep at 5am, and had gotten up and gone in search of some strong coffee. After downing a large cup, and scarfing down some food at Sirius’ bossy House-elf’s behest, he’d found himself wandering the house until he came upon the library. That was where Remus had found him over two hours later.

“Ready to go, mate?” Remus asked, sitting on the settee beside James, and putting a hand on James’ jittering knee.

“No,” James said with a scoff, “But let's go anyway.” Remus grinned and they headed for the kitchen where a shirtless Sirius was gulping down a hot cup of coffee. He raised it at them, still half asleep.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake. Can’t you put clothes on, Pads?” Remus asked with a sigh, picking up a steaming cup of what smelled like hot chocolate sitting on the side, and taking a sip with a happy sigh.

Sirius shrugged, “Nah, what’s the point. Not going out in public.” 

Sirius grinned, and Remus rolled his eyes. “You just want a reaction.” He said with a long suffering sigh.

“You know it, Moons.” Sirius winked, and downed the rest of his coffee in one go.

“Huh?” James asked, confused.

Remus just waved a hand and sighed again, “You’ll see.” Remus reached into the pot above the large fireplace and threw a handful of the floo powder into the fireplace. Bright green flames immediately sprung from nothing, and without saying anything further he stepped straight in and was gone in a whirl without saying anything.

James sent a confused look at Sirius, who grinned, “It’s only linked to Potter Manor, so no need to bother saying your destination.” He gestured at the fireplace, “After you.” James stepped into the green flames and was being spat out into his ancestral home’s kitchen within seconds. Remus was standing by the large table, sipping on the hot chocolate he’d brought through with him. As soon as James stepped to the side out of the way, Sirius came spinning into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	10. Reunions part deux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James meets some rather important people!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh here we go! You might notice that there's now a count of the chapters, I've finished writing! So new chapters will be either daily/every other day depending on editing etc. :D

**4th December 1998** **  
** **8am** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

James opened his mouth to ask something, but was interrupted by the sound of loud heels clicking down the hall. Sirius shoved James behind Remus with a mischievous grin, so he was out of sight, and then leaned back against the table indolently. Remus just sighed and kept sipping at his drink.

Just then a beautiful woman stepped into the kitchen from the hall and jumped at the sight of them, “Oh!” She exclaimed, her hand fluttering to her chest, “I thought I’d heard the floo.” She smiled happily at Remus, and then her eyes drifted to Sirius and narrowed dangerously. Sirius grinned. “Sirius Black!”

“Yes, Kitten?”

She huffed, and slapped him on the chest with the back of her hand, “How many times have I told you not to appear in my bloody kitchen half-dressed?!” She scolded, her voice rising with each word until she was nearly screeching. 

“I think you’ll have to tell me one more time, Kitten.” Sirius said smugly, grinning when she made an inarticulate noise of rage.

“You will be the death of me, Sirius Black!” She ran her hands through her mane of wild curls, making them fluff up even more. She was dressed in a tight black skirt, and a violet blouse, her legs looking ridiculously long, especially for someone so short, in her sheer tights leading into matching violet high heels. James swallowed, and looked back up at her face, righteous in her fury. James wondered who she was, this woman so at home in his kitchen, calling it hers? Was Harry dating her? His eyes widened at the thought.

“But what a good death it would be, hey Kitten?”

She slapped him again, stepping past him to start making a drink. As she did she caught sight of James standing behind Remus and, before he could account for it, her wand was pressed tight against his throat. Her eyes widened as she looked at him, but her wand didn't waver. “Who the hell are you?” She growled, pressing her wand tighter when he shifted.

“‘Mione.” Remus said quietly, putting his hand on her wand arm gently, “He came with us. I promise you he’s safe.” She shifted her eyes slightly to look at Remus still keeping James in her sight. “We never would have brought him here if he wasn't.”

She stepped back a tiny bit from both Remus and James, aiming her wand again so she had all three of them in her sights. “Remus, what did I reveal at my birthday that embarrassed me and you?” She asked in a tight voice.

“That you had a crush on me in your third year, when I was your professor.” Both Remus and the woman blushed slightly, but again her wand hand didn't waver, moving slightly until she pointed it at Sirius. When he just grinned, she aimed it down a little more, pointing at his crotch.

Sirius yelped and covered himself with his hands as though that would make any difference. She smirked, but kept her wand pointing at him, “Who came with me to rescue you from the Veil?” She asked.

James watched Sirius swallow tightly, “Kingsley.”

The woman breathed a sigh of relief, though she didn't put away her wand, just turned it back to James. She peered at him for a long moment in silence, a look so reminiscent of James’ mother that he shifted nervously. “Alright, so how the hell is James Potter back from the dead?” She finally asked into the tense silence of the kitchen.

There was a bit of spluttering before the whole story was blurted out over coffee the woman - Hermione James had found out - made. She’d finally sighed and lowered her wand at the end of the telling.

“Do you have the device on you?” She asked curiously, relaxing back into her chair and cradling her cup gently in her hands.

James just shook his head, “McGonagall took it. Gave it to Kingsley I think.”

She sighed, but shrugged, “Shame, I’d’ve liked to have got my hands on it.” Sirius scoffed in amusement, and Hermione sent him a look. “Harry’s already gone to training, he started at five this morning. I’ve got to leave for my apprenticeship in five minutes.” She looked up at James, “You’re welcome to stay, I suppose it is technically your house after all.” She smiled sadly, and rose gracefully to her feet.

“You okay, Kitten?” Sirius asked, reaching over to take her hand when she sighed.

“Of course, Sirius.” She looked down and examined her dark skin against his paler hand. “I’m just worried about Harry.” She looked back up at them all, tears swimming in her eyes, “Remus you know how he was after the war, how we all were. I’m just-” She sniffed, “I’m just worried he’ll spiral back.”

Sirius squeezed her hand, “We’re here to help, Kitten.”

Remus nodded his agreement, “Pads is right love, we’re not going to leave you alone to deal with him. It’s not your duty.”

James watched the relationships at play in front of him, very curious, especially about who this woman was to his son. He’d been told about the war, but not who anyone was. He just knew that two of Harry’s friends had accompanied him on a hopeless Horcrux hunt - a thought that made his heart clench painfully in his chest.

Hermione snorted, raising an eyebrow at Remus, “It’s been my duty to look after Harry since first year, Remus. I’m not going to stop now.”

Remus sighed, “Fine, but let us help this time. You’re not stuck in a tent in the middle of nowhere anymore, Hermione.” She sighed, but nodded in acquiescence.

“I need to be off. I’ll see Harry for lunch, and try to explain a bit.” She squeezed Sirius’ hand where hers was still captured in his, and then let go and straightened out her skirt compulsively. “He’ll be home before me though. You might want to expelliarmus him when he gets home,” She said with a chuckle, nodding in James' direction, “He tends to hex first and ask questions later.” With that she strode out of the room, and they heard her apparate outside the door a couple minutes later.

Remus sighed, “That’s your influence, Pads.”

**4th December 1998** **  
** **5pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

James spent the day exploring his childhood home, and had ended up on the Quidditch pitch at one point, riding a broom he’d found in the shed. He heard a crack of apparition and saw a man appear on the front stoop of the Manor. A man that could only be his son going by the hair. He stayed where he was, wanting to give Remus and Sirius - who were somewhere in the Manor - a chance to explain everything to Harry. He didn't want to have another wand in his face if he could avoid it.

James lazily flew about the pitch for a while longer before a silvery dog suddenly materialised in front of him and Sirius’ voice flowed out, “Come in, Prongs. Harry’s unsure but he’s calm and ready to meet you.” James watched the patronus fade away with wide eyes - well Harry may be ready, but James wasn’t sure if he was.

After a moment longer of indecision James sighed, he needed to get this over with. He was a bloody Gryffindor for Merlin’s sake. He flew back down to the broom shed and stowed the beautiful broom away carefully. Then he slowly made his way back towards the house, trying not to look like he was walking to his doom. This was his son, there could be any amount of years separating them and he would still love him.

James carefully pushed open the front doors and entered the Manor, keeping an ear out for any noise. Bloody Remus and Sirius with their canine hearing heard him enter and Sirius shouted for James to join them in the drawing room on the first floor. 

James went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea from the still hot kettle on the stove, and then headed up the stairs to the cosy drawing room where his father had spent a lot of his time in James’ youth.

He took a deep breath when he arrived outside of the doors, drawing on that Gryffindor courage, and then pushed the door open slowly. He entered the room, pushed the door shut behind him and turned to look at his son. 

He got stuck staring into those beautiful green eyes, the colour he’d never seen on anyone except Lily before. “Harry?” He whispered, emotion choking him.

Those green eyes blinked, and his son, his all grown-up son, stepped closer to him, “Dad?”

James swallowed, “Yeah, son, it’s me.” Before James could account for anything, Harry had thrown himself into his arms and James was hugging his son tight. The last time he’d seen the boy he’d only been a year and a bit old, but James was right, he loved him no matter what age or how long it had been. He became aware that as he hugged Harry he’d been muttering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” over and over again into Harry’s messy black hair - just like his own.

James pushed Harry lightly away, giving him a good look over; Harry was shorter than James, by quite a few inches, and slighter. He had the same hair, and Lily’s beautiful eyes. He pulled Harry back into a tight hug, which Harry returned, and James felt hot tears soaking into the shoulder of his robes. He sent Sirius a look over his son’s shoulder, and made a quiet gesture to their difference in height. Sirius’ eyes darkened, and James could practically see the fury rising off Sirius like steam, he raised a questioning eyebrow and Sirius nodded his head sharply; he’d tell James later.

The next two hours were spent getting to know his son as the adult he was now. They would never really have the father-son relationship they’d been robbed of, but James would be happy to just know Harry, even as a friend or brother. Though Remus and Sirius stayed in the room with them, they had mostly left them to it, playing a game of Wizard Chess, interjecting to tell Harry embarrassing things about James whenever they could - James gave as good as got when it came to retaliating.

That was where Hermione found them when she got home from her apprenticeship late that evening, bringing amazing smelling takeaway with her. She grinned as she stuck her head ‘round the door, fond eyes falling on Harry and James deep in conversation. “Boys!” She called, “Food’s here. Come eat.” With a grin she spun out of the room.

James waited a beat after she left before turning to Harry with narrowed eyes, “So…” He said in a faux casual tone that got Remus and Sirius’ attention, “She your girlfriend, Harry?”

Harry spluttered for a moment on the mouthful of firewhiskey he’d just taken, and turned wide, watering eyes on James, “Merlin, no!” He exclaimed, shaking his head vigorously, “‘Mione’s my best friend, and I love her, but like a sister.” He insisted.

Sirius chuckled, and leant forward conspiratorially, “Harry likes them with a bit more hanging between their legs, Prongsie.” Now it was Remus’ turn to splutter too, smacking Sirius’ arm hard.

“Pads!”

“Urgh, thanks Sirius,” Harry said with a wrinkled nose. James was blinking in confusion, trying to work out what an earth Sirius had meant, when Harry turned back to him, a faint blush on his cheeks. “Though I’d’ve put it in a different way, he’s not wrong.” 

When James still looked a bit blank and confused, Sirius sighed and rolled his eyes, “Merlin, Prongs, get with it. He’s gay.”

James blinked, “Ohhh. I see.” James grimaced, “Sorry about assuming, Harry.” Harry just shrugged with a smile.

“I don’t mind, only realised in the last like six months.” Harry smiled, and James grinned back at him.

When they got down to the dining room Hermione wasn’t in there, but there was a plethora of Indian takeaway curries laid out over the table. James’ mouth watered as he examined it all. “Damn,” He said, taking a seat at the table when the rest of them did, “This looks bloody good.”

“The best Indian in London, personally.” Hermione said with a large smile as she walked into the room. She had changed and was now in a pair of loose jogging bottoms, and a red and gold Quidditch jersey that had Weasley emblazoned across the back of it.

James raised an eyebrow at it, but didn't say anything. The only Weasley’s he’d known were a lot older, but a lot had happened since he’d been in hiding, and then supposedly dead.

“Where’d you get Ron’s jumper from ‘Mione?” Harry asked, as he passed her a large container of Saagwala.

“It’s George’s actually.” She said with a grin around an onion bhaji. 

“You’ve got George’s jumper?” Harry asked incredulously. 

James leant over to Remus who was sitting next to him and whispered, “Who’s George?”

Remus waved a hand, “One of the Weasley kids. I’ll explain later.”

Hermione was still grinning at Harry, and started listing off, “I’m making a collection.” She chuckled, “They’re so comfy! I’ve got Ron’s, George’s, Fred’s, Charlie’s…”

“All Weasley’s.” Remus leant over to James to explain.

“... Krum’s, yours,” She gestured at a gobsmacked Harry, “And I’m working on convincing Draco to give me his.” She finished with a chuckle at the look on Harry’s face.

“Malfoy!?” He practically screeched.

“Wotcher, what’s going on in here?” A voice came from the doorway, and they all turned (except Harry) to see Tonks standing in the doorway, with a sleepy Teddy in her arms.

Remus smiled fondly up at his wife, taking Teddy from her as she took the seat on the other side of him and started pulling food towards herself, “Hermione has shocked Harry with how many Quidditch jerseys she has.” He chuckled.

Tonks grinned, and said “I might have a couple you can have, ‘Mione.” Hermione nodded, looking pleased, all of them steadfastly ignoring Harry’s rising ire.

“Malfoy!” Harry exclaimed again, still stuck on that salient point.

“Oh, honestly, Harry.” Hermione rolled her eyes, “We were bound to become friends at some point.” She gestured at Sirius, “Sirius and Narcissa have reconciled, so I’d expect him to be around more often once he’s back from Hogwarts.” 

Harry scoffed slightly, but got distracted by seeing Teddy, “Oh! Give me my godson,” He said with glee, making grabby hands at Remus until the man passed over his son. Harry grinned and cuddled the little sleeping boy close.

Sirius, who’d been grinning at the goings on the whole time, turned to a sweetly smiling Hermione, “I’ve still got my Quidditch jersey if you want it, Kitten.” Hermione grinned at him and nodded. James watched them all silently, interested to see how they all interacted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	11. Tea parties and celebrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gringotts, the Order and the Black sisters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all had such lovely reactions to the last chapter <3 love you all! Here's another

**1st January 1999** **  
** **2pm** **  
** **Diagon Alley - London** **  
** **Gringotts Wizarding bank**

December passed ridiculously quickly. James had moved in with Hermione and Harry a couple of weeks in, and they’d spent a wonderful Christmas together with the residents of Black Manor and the many Weasleys - James was introduced to them all at the beginning of the day and promptly forgot half their names.

It had been tense for a little bit as the newcomers took a while to warm up to the suddenly and miraculously alive James, but by the time Flissy laid out the Christmas dinner everyone was getting on famously.

Now Harry and James were on their way to Gringotts to get James reinstated as Head of House Potter. They could do it unofficially on the Estate - which they had done as soon as he’d moved in, but to make sure that it was all above board and legal, they needed to go to Gringotts. The Goblins could also be trusted not to reveal that James was alive, especially if he returned some Goblin made items to them, which he was planning on doing.

James had been wary about coming out in public again, not sure if he was ready for it, and Harry hated going out in public just because of how many people tried to accost him, so they‘d concealed their identities until they reached the steps up to the entrance to the bank.

As they approached, Harry hesitated, grabbing James’ arm briefly. “Harry?” James whispered, turning back to his son with a worried frown. He glanced up and down the street to make sure it wasn't something that Harry had seen, “You alright, son?”

Harry nodded somewhat jerkily, “The last time I was in here we were flying out on the back of a dragon and destroying the building. Not sure how happy the Goblins are going to be to see me.”

James snorted, he’d thought he got up to some shit at school, but Harry and his friends put him to shame. “Goblins are never very happy to begin with anyway, Harry. The artifacts we’re giving back will more than make up for the damage caused, I’m sure.”

They entered the bank and James waved his wand to cancel their disguises, and together they approached the closest free Goblin. James looked up at it silently, not interrupting, waiting for it to acknowledge him.

After a moment the Goblin nodded at James to go ahead. “I am James Charlus Potter, and I’m here to be reinstated as the Head of House Potter.” The Goblin narrowed its eyes and stared down at him for a moment, before clicking his fingers. An old piece of parchment and a quill appeared in its hands. He handed them down to James.

“That is a blood quill. Sign your name in full with the quill, and if you are telling the truth I will fetch the Potter account manager to deal with you.” The Goblin said briskly.

James nodded his thanks. After adjusting the parchment in his hands, he quickly scrawled his full name across the parchment with the blood quill, wincing when it cut into his hand. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Harry wincing too, and gripping at one of his hands with the other. James filed that away quietly to ask about later.

The Goblin held its hand out for the parchment, looked it over and nodded decidedly. “Wait one minute.” It said firmly and gestured for another Goblin to come over. “Get the Potter account manager and see these two gentlemen to meeting room 5.” James nodded his thanks at the Goblin as they passed by, following the other Goblin.

Getting their accounts sorted, and James reinstated took a ridiculous amount of time. Harry was shocked to discover the vault he’d been using was just a vault his parents had set up for him to have access to until he was 21. The main Potter vault was about five times the size, and contained inordinate amounts of coins, jewellery, and artifacts. 

James gestured at the mounds of stuff in the vault, “You are entitled to anything and everything in here Harry. I’ve got you and me both set up with a Gringotts card to use to easily spend the money from here instead of taking bags of coins everywhere.”

Harry just gaped and didn't know what to say.

He and James spent the rest of the day exploring Diagon Alley, James shocked at how much it had changed. Then they spent much too long in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, where Fred and George promptly declared James was allowed anything he wanted for free. The Marauder had grinned and gone a little mad picking stuff out in the shop. He’d then slipped more than enough galleons to cover it all into the twins’ pockets when they weren’t looking.

**16th January 1999** **  
** **6pm** **  
** **The Burrow - Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon** **  
** **Residence of the Weasleys**

By the time James had been back for nearly three months, it was decided that it was probably time to reveal his existence to the Order members who were as yet unaware of his unexplainable return (the Unspeakables and Kingsley still didn't have an answer). 

Soon the Order was all gathered in the garden of the Burrow, under the same large marquee from Bill and Fleur’s wedding, copious warming charms cast over the whole space until it felt like a balmy spring evening. Mrs Weasley had put on an amazing spread, an abundance of dishes laid out on one long table, a pile of plates at one end to allow people to go between the food and where they were seated multiple times if they wished. 

Most of the Order was unaware there was any reason for them to gather, just thought it was an excuse to see each other. It had been decided that McGonagall and Kingsley, the first two to know about James’ reappearance, would be the ones to explain to everyone. They were also a lot more rational and calm than some of their younger counterparts who already knew about James’ return.

McGonagall waited until everyone was seated with their first plates of food before standing and drawing everyone’s attention to her. James had been ordered to stay in the house, so he was watching from the kitchen window as McGonagall explained everything. He had to say, even though he didn't recognise half of the Order members - newer ones who’d joined after his ‘death’ - watching their reactions to his return was rather amusing.

Judging by the way Sirius was lounging in his chair next to an amused and relaxed looking Remus, they both found everyone’s reactions pretty funny too.

Hermione appeared next to James in the kitchen, only having just finished at her apprenticeship for the day. She looked up at James and rolled her eyes, “Honestly, you’re having too much fun with this.” She said with a huff. She was still wearing her work clothes, a pencil skirt and pale blue blouse, but pulled a Quidditch jersey - with Black emblazoned across the back - out of her bag and threw it on over the blouse. It was too large on her, slouching off one shoulder.

James just grinned, “Gotta get my fun somewhere, love.” He said with a shrug. Hermione leaned on her forearms next to him and people watched happily with him for a few minutes, smiling at seeing her friends. When James made some kind of noise, she straightened and turned to him.

“How are you doing?” She asked sincerely, her clever eyes scrutinising him.

He considered lying and saying he was fine like everyone expected him to, but he knew she’d see straight through the obvious lie. So he shrugged, and rubbed a hand down his face tiredly, taking note of the few days growth of stubble on his chin. He should probably shave that off. “I don't know. It’s all so jumbled. One day is great, the next is the worst I’ve ever felt.”

Hermione hmm’d sympathetically, putting a soft hand to his face and turning him to look down at her properly. She examined him for a moment, then let go. “Can I say what I think?”

James snorted, “From what I’ve learned of you, you don't usually need to ask for that.” She sent him a stern look, but raised an eyebrow, clearly not going to say anything until he agreed, “Yeah, course you can.”

She took a deep breath and looked away from him for a moment, thinking. “You feel detached and terrible, so then you do something with your friends, or Harry, and that makes you feel better for a while. Makes you feel happy. You laugh, you have a great time, and then you remember  _ them _ . All those people who died for this,” She waved her hand at the merriment happening in the garden in front of them, “For us to live, and you think ‘how dare I? How  _ dare _ I have fun? How dare I live my life whilst they don’t get to?’” She took a deep breath, tears swimming in her eyes and sliding slowly and silently down her face, “And then you feel guilty and so so sad. And then you feel guilty for feeling guilty because-” She swallowed and swiped a hand roughly over her face, “Because  _ this _ is why they died, what they died for, and they’d want us to celebrate it. To live.”

James didn't realise he’d slid to the floor and was sobbing until Hermione pulled him into her arms, and ran her hands over his hair slowly and softly. He could feel her hitching breaths against his shoulder, and he knew she was crying too. He didn't know how long they sat there before she pulled away.

“You’re not wrong for living your life without her, James. She’d want you to. But you can remember her whilst you do that.” She stood to her feet and held out a hand to pull him up, “If you ever need anything don't hesitate.” She cast a drying and cooling charm on both their faces, and then exited the kitchen into the garden. James watched as she was pulled into joyful and laughing hugs by her friends, and smiled sadly.

Remus came into the kitchen a moment later, “You okay mate? You wanna come out and say hello?”

James swallowed, and turned to one of his best friends, “No, I’m not okay,” He said honestly, watching Remus’ brown eyes widen, “But I will be, because that’s what Lily would want.” Remus nodded and pulled him into a tight hug. And then they exited the kitchen into the evening to cheers and shouts of joy at James’ appearance. He smiled through it, and caught Hermione’s eyes as he was swept into a hug by Hestia Jones. He mouthed ‘thank you’ at her, and she just grinned.

**23rd January 1999** **  
****3pm** **  
** **Black Manor - Grantham, Lincolnshire**

Even though Sirius had insisted that Narcissa be the one to contact Andromeda first off and start to try reconciling, he’d been happy enough to open Black Manor for their use. He’d been there to graciously greet Narcissa and show her through to the parlour, and the same for Andromeda, and then he’d quickly disappeared and gone to beg Hermione and Tonks to mediate. 

Tonks had agreed quickly considering one of them was her mother. Hermione, when he’d finally found her buried deep in Potter library, had agreed on the stipulation that Ginny came too. Sirius had shrugged, agreed and promptly apparated away so that he couldn't get pulled in.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the man’s antics, and quickly sent her patronus off to find Ginny whilst she hurried to her room and got changed into something a little more appropriate for a tea party than the ratty jeans and Quidditch jumper (Charlie Weasley’s) she was in.

More appropriately dressed Hermoine hurried downstairs, where she found Ginny standing in the kitchen, eyebrow raised, “You owe me for this, Hermione Granger.” She said, “Making me have tea with a Malfoy.” Her grin belied the sharpness of her words.

“Get Sirius to owe you. He’s the one who ran away and is leaving us with this responsibility.” Hermione rolled her eyes, stepping quickly into the fireplace and throwing down some floo powder that immediately flared green and spun her away.

She stepped out of the fireplace the other end and quickly siphoned the soot off her clothes with her wand. Once Ginny had stepped out and done the same, they both headed for the parlour where they could hear the low murmur of Tonks’ voice.

Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Tonks were sitting opposite sides of the room, stiff in their chairs. Each formidable witch was holding a delicate tea-cup. Hermione and Ginny entered the room with murmured hellos and took seats either side of Tonks on the sofa in between the two sisters.

The stiff politeness and formality lasted for roughly another five minutes, until something happened - Hermione couldn't later say what - and then Andromeda was practically hissing and spitting at her younger sister like the animal motif of their shared house.

Hermione and Ginny shared a shocked look over Tonks who just calmly took a sip of her tea and leaned back into the sofa, amused to watch her mother and aunt shout and scream at each other about their decades long enmity. 

At one point Remus’ poked his head ‘round the door looking worried, rightfully so because now Narcissa and Andromeda were up in each other's face, and it looked like Andromeda was five seconds away from grabbing Narcissa’s hair and yanking. “Everything okay, love?” He asked, making eye contact with Tonks.

She just smiled, “Oh yeah, this is a normal tea party in any Black family get together. They just need to get this out and they’ll be fine in a bit.” Remus looked between his wife and the scene in front of them before shrugging and leaving again.

By the time Sirius returned in an hour Andromeda and Narcissa were sitting together, heads bent close giggling childishly about something or other. Hermione and Ginny were still sitting rather stiffly, staring sceptically at the two sisters as though they would start screaming again any minute. Tonks was sipping on her cup of tea serenely.

“Everything okay, ladies?” Sirius asked, collapsing into Andromeda’s previous seat.

“Wonderful, Sirius.” Narcissa said with a sweet smile that did nothing to fool anyone in the room. It turned more genuine when she made eye contact with Sirius, “I thank you for doing this for me.”

Hermione just managed to suppress the snort that wanted to escape at that. It was an odd evening all in all, but a memory that would at least amuse her in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!
> 
> Also - promise I am working on Ultimo Tendo, but I've hit a little wall. I've currently got a backlog of twenty chapters written past what's been posted, but I want to keep that, so each new chapter won't be posted until I've written another (eg: I've got 27 written, 7 posted, so not going to post 8 until I have 28 written).


	12. Wizengamot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some big stuff starting this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all for your lovely comments <3

**5th February 1999** **  
** **10am** **  
** **Ministry of Magic - London** **  
** **Level 2 - DMLE, Wizengamot Administrative Headquarters**

James had spent the last week since Lily’s birthday wallowing in his misery. He’d been snapped out of it when he’d found out that Sirius still wasn't able to leave his house due to being a fugitive, despite having died (officially). Harry told James that Kingsley was working on it, but it wasn't fast enough in James’ opinion, so he decided he was going to claim the Potter Wizengamot seat and sort this shit out himself.

He burst into the office for the Wizengamot Administrative Headquarters dramatically, startling the poor secretary who’d been frantically scribbling when he entered. “Oh, I'm sorry!” He winced, embarrassed.

The woman smiled, and waved a dismissive hand, “Oh please don't worry about it, Mister…”

James smiled too, taking the seat in front of her desk, “Potter. James Potter.” He said clearly, watching her eyes widen massively.

“Mr- Mr Potter.” She swallowed nervously, and blinked a couple of times. She shuffled some papers on her desk, “Are the- Are the Goblins aware of your return, Mr Potter?”

“Indeed, and as I have been reinstated as Head of House Potter, I am here to claim my Wizengamot seat.”

“Err. Right. I- I see.” She stood abruptly. “You’ll have to fill in some paperwork, Mr Potter. Just to prove you are who you say you are. And then you will need to go down to the in session Wizengamot and request your seat formally. That is just a formality of course.” She smiled a tremulous smile, and placed a stack of paperwork down in front of James on the desk. She’d been flitting around the office gathering it as she talked. “Do you have a quill?”

“Uh. No, sorry.” She waved off his apology, and passed him a spare quill and ink pot. 

“There’s a desk over there you may use to complete the paperwork.” She pointed to the far corner of the office. James followed her instructions. It took him a painstaking half an hour to fill out all the paperwork, a lot of which were documents to prove he was who he said he was.

When he’d handed them all back to her to verify, she directed him to go to level 10 where the Wizengamot were currently meeting. He sighed, hating the bureaucracy of the Ministry. He made his way quickly down to the large courtroom, wanting to get this debacle over as soon as possible.

There were two guards standing outside the large double doors into the room, who held up their hands as he approached. “State your business.” The older looking one said gruffly.

“My name is James Potter, and I am here to claim the Potter family seat.” 

Both the guards gaped for a moment, before the younger one stuttered slightly and said, “Paperwork please?”

James handed over the paperwork he’d painstakingly filled in, and watched as they scanned it quickly with their wands, checking for forgery or fraud. They let him into the room then with a quick spell and he walked in front of the Wizengamot, head held high, a slightly arrogant smirk tilting his lips. He watched in amusement as Kingsley’s eyes widened - the minister was currently covering the position of Chief Warlock until it could be filled.

Kingsley cleared his throat and watched James with a raised eyebrow for a silent moment, then he finally spoke up, his deep voice rumbling, “Please state your name and business.”

“I’m James Charlus Potter, Head of the Noble House of Potter. I lay claim to the Potter family Wizengamot seat.” His voice rang in the stunned silence of the chambers. The only sound was the frantic scratching of quills from the reporters’ section. He blinked away the lights dancing in his eyes from the flash of cameras going off. He held up the sheaf of parchment in his hands, “Here I have my completed paperwork proving who I am from both Gringotts and the DMLE.”

A murmur of surprise rose up from the seated members of the Wizengamot, they’d obviously all thought he was just some kind of imposter. Kingsley was clearly surprised too, he’d obviously not been expecting James to claim the Potter seat. No Potter had sat on it for roughly 60 years, ever since that bloody Pureblood directory had been published. James’ grandfather had given up his seat in protest. “We acknowledge your claim, Lord Potter. Please pass the papers to the clerk and the Wizengamot will give you their answer in due time.” 

James did as asked, and was escorted out of the chambers. He knew news of his return would be all over the evening papers later, and he was both dreading it and intrigued to see what rubbish they’d print about him.

**5th February 1999** **  
** **6pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire** **  
** **Residence of Hermione Granger, Harry, and James Potter**

**_Saviour’s father back from the dead?!_ **

_ This reporter discovered this morning upon attending what was supposed to be a normal meeting of the Wizengamot that James Potter, beloved father of Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived-to-defeat-you-know-who, has somehow returned from the dead. This morning Lord Potter, newly instated Head of House Potter, strode into the Wizengamot and demanded the Potter family seat, a seat which hasn’t been claimed by the family in near sixty years. _

_ This reporter will do the best to answer your questions; how is Lord Potter back from the dead? What does he want? Why did he claim the Potter seat?... _

Hermione threw the paper down on the kitchen table and scoffed in disgust, her hair was sparking a little with her ire, “Their writing hasn’t gotten any better since they got rid of bloody Rita Skeeter.” She sighed. Harry laughed in agreement, picking up the paper to scan the front page.

“Are you really surprised?” He finally asked, turning around to throw the paper into the fire currently blazing in the fireplace.

“No.” Hermione admitted, pouring herself a cup of tea just to have something to occupy her hands, “I just. Oh it makes me so angry! Their obsession with you, and me, and Ron.”

Harry just laughed, taking the teapot from her hands before she did something like throw it across the room in her anger, “I mean, in their defence, dad coming back to life is kinda big news.” 

She scowled, but didn't argue the point, she took a seat again, pushing the shoulder of the Quidditch jersey she was wearing (Malfoy’s today as she’d succeeded in nicking it off him) back up from where it had slid off her shoulder.

James walked into the room at that minute, wearing casual robes hanging open over a band t-shirt that looked like one of Sirius’ and tight muggle jeans. “I’m always big news.” He said with a grin, ruffling his hair. Hermione rolled her eyes, and took a sip of her tea, sighing as the hot liquid slid down her throat and warmed her from the inside. “Has the  _ Prophet _ arrived?” He asked, pulling out one of the chairs at the table and flopping down into it. He lifted his feet to put them on the table, but before he succeeded in doing so, Flissy popped over and slapped his feet until he lowered them to the floor. He pouted at the House-elf who had helped raise him, but she just gave him an unimpressed look.

Hermione giggled a little into her tea, “Yeah, Harry threw it into the fire.” She gestured at the fireplace where there remained only ashes from the so despised paper. 

James gaped at his son, who just shrugged, “Sorry dad, it’s a piece of shit.” Hermione flicked Harry’s arm for the swear, but he just waved her off, “They told everyone you’re alive if that’s what you were wondering.”

“Yeah it was.” James sighed, “Did they say I looked good?” He asked with a wink.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and got to her feet, “No, they said you looked terrible.” She said dryly, sauntering out the kitchen, tea in her hands. She headed for the library, wanting to settle down and read a good book for a while. She heard James’ offended cough behind her, and Harry’s laughter. It was such a joyful sound that her heart clenched happily and she stood and listened silently as father and son had a heated discussion about Quidditch. She’d not seen Harry so happy in years.

**8th February 1999** **  
** **9am** **  
** **Ministry of Magic - London** **  
** **Level 10 - Wizengamot Chambers**

James had been contacted the day after he’d claimed his seat by Kingsley to confirm that the Wizengamot had ratified his claim. He and Sirius had subsequently spent the last two days planning how to word James’ demand to the Wizengamot that they give Sirius a fair trial. Hermione helped greatly as she’d spent the summer researching the precedents for such a thing before she’d started her Potioneers Apprenticeship.

Hermione took a seat with Remus, Tonks, and Harry in the spectators' stands as the Wizengamot was called to order. Teddy had been left with Andromeda for the day to allow Remus and Tonks to be there in support. Hermione was surprised to notice that as well as Draco sitting in the Malfoy family seat, Narcissa was a few rows over from them in the stands. When Hermione made eye contact with her she nodded politely.

The Wizengamot members took their seats and Hermione took note of all of those that James may be able to agree to a fair trial; Hannah Abbott, who’d taken over for her frail father after the war, Millicent Bulstrode, who had been conspicuously neutral in the war and may remain so now she held her mother’s seat, Argus Fawley could be persuadable, Hyperion Greengrass was an unknown to Hermione though she knew his family was close with Malfoy so that may work in their favour. 

Augusta Longbottom would undoubtedly be on their side, Ernie Macmillan might be persuadable if he was able to get over his stupid fears about Sirius. Hermione knew Malfoy was on their side, and assumed he’d probably talked to Theo Nott who was sitting in his father’s seat too, Ollivander and Bill - who had taken the Weasley seat when Arthur turned it down - would support them unquestionably, Shacklebolt wouldn't be able to weigh in on either side due to his current position as Minister, and finally Horace Slughorn was an unknown, though knowing his obsession with powerful people he’d most likely support James, for the prestige it could offer him.

Parkinson, Burke, and Flint were the only ones she was a hundred percent sure would not support James' request. There were more empty seats in the Wizengamot than ever before, starkly obvious were those of some of Voldemort’s strongest supporters. Of the seats for the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Avery, Carrow, Crouch, Lestrange, Rosier, Rowle, Travers, and Yaxley were unoccupied and would now always be. 

The seats for the families Gaunt, Prewett, Black, and Selwyn had sat empty for years. Though hopefully the Black family seat would soon again have a member to take it. There were also all the seats for the non-Sacred Twenty-Eight members, whom Hermione was less sure about - Zabini was the only one she knew well enough to judge that he’d most likely support them.

When the meeting was finally called to order they spent a few boring hours going over important legislative decisions that Hermione was certainly sure should not be decided on by a bunch of purebloods. She rolled her eyes, that was something James and Sirius could stir up at least. Finally, around midday, after a twenty minute recess, the floor was opened up to members to submit queries or requests.

James stood to his feet as rehearsed and made his way down to the centre of the room to stand in front of Kingsley. “Minister, I have a request to submit.”

“Lord Potter, please do go ahead.” Kingsley gestured good naturedly at James, most likely already knowing what this was about.

“Before I begin, I would like to put a question to my esteemed colleagues of the Wizengamot.” Kingsley nodded for James to go ahead. “Would every person here agree that out of everyone in this room, or even everyone in the Wizarding World, I am the only person who is aware of what exactly transpired on the night of 31st of October 1981?” He gestured back to Harry, “Considering my son was only just over one year old when it happened.” He said with a chuckle. Many of the Wizengamot members chuckled too, and every single one of them nodded their agreement.

James turned to Percy Weasley who was the acting scribe for the Wizengamot, “Could it please be made known that every single member of the Wizengamot agreed that I am the only person who knows what happened that night?”

Percy narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to work out where James was going with this, but nodded his head, “A note has been made. It is now recorded.” Hermione reached out and squeezed Harry’s hand tightly, it was going as they’d planned!

“As the Wizengamot has acknowledged this, then as the only person who knows the truth I insist that Sirius Orion Black III, rightful Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, is fully innocent of any crimes he is accused of, and was therefore wrongfully imprisoned,  _ WITHOUT TRIAL _ , for twelve years. I demand that this respected body thus allow Sirius Black a fair trial with the submission of memories from myself, Sirius Black himself, Remus Lupin, and the Saviour of the Wizarding World Harry Potter, as well as the use of Veritaserum to prove his innocence.” There were gasps from the Wizengamot and audience both, but James carried on, wanting to get everything out, “Our laws are based upon innocent until proven guilty, yet Sirius Black was sent to prison with no trial and no proof of his guilt.”

“Now, see here!” Cornelius Fudge’s smug voice rose from the assembled Wizengamot members, as he heaved himself to his feet, still wearing the eye-sore that was his bright green bowler hat, it clashed awfully with the plum coloured Wizengamot robes he was wearing. “He confessed to Bartemius Crouch Sr.”

“A confession is not a conviction, Mr Fudge.” James snapped crisply, channelling his inner Professor McGonagall, “As previous Minister of Magic, I would hope that you’d know that.” There were chuckles from the audience, and Fudge sat down abruptly, the wind knocked out of his sails. “I will not leave this place until a trial date for Sirius Black is set for a day within the next month, with agreements in writing to my stipulations for the admittance of memory and veritaserum evidence.”

There was a brief silence. Kingsley looked over the Wizengamot members, then spoke up, “As Minister for Magic, and acting Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, I support the request for a fair trial for Sirius Black, with the admittance of memory and veritaserum evidence.” There were some subdued gasps, and Hermione noted some of the Wizengamot members were looking pissed. “All those in favour raise your hands.”

Hermione’s predictions for who would support them were correct, and to her great relief there was a majority. She dashed away the tears streaming down her face, and hugged Harry tightly, hearing Remus’ triumphant laugh beside them as he swept his wife into a kiss. James nodded politely at Kingsley, clearly keeping a tight rein on his emotions. “Thank you.” He said sincerely to the other Wizengamot members as he climbed the steps to take his seat again, next to Bill Weasley, who shook his hand with a big grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOHH let me know what you thought!!


	13. Is he never serious?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trial to end the century

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like this one, it really fought me when I wrote it, and I'm still not best pleased *shrug*

**_Trial for Sirius Black - Lord Potter insists he’s INNOCENT!?_ **

_ Sirius Black, former heir to the House of Black, is due to be on trial this morning for the murder of 12 muggles and the wizard Peter Pettigrew in November 1981, for which he was imprisoned for 12 years until the summer of 1993 when he escaped - the first to ever do so from Azkaban. He is also set to be questioned for his role in the breaking of the fidelius charm that led to the Potter family attack on the night of 31st October 1981. _

_ James Potter, thought to have died with his wife, Muggleborn Lily Potter nee Evans, on that fateful night, returned to the world of the living recently - though the details of how this happened have been kept from the general public - will be standing as witness for the defense.  _

_ As the only person to truly know what happened that night, maybe the answers of what really happened will come out. This reporter is just as eager as you to find out. _

**15th February 1999** **  
** **9am** **  
****Ministry of Magic - London** **  
** **Level 10 - Wizengamot Chambers**

It had been agreed that no dementors would be present at the trial upon the insistence of both James and Harry. As they all filed into the chambers, Hermione watched the Wizengamot members, trying to weigh up who would be supportive or not, knowing it would be different than just ratifying James’ position on the Wizengamot. She took a seat with Remus, Tonks, Andromeda, Narcissa, and a silenced Teddy in the stands. Harry was going to be a witness, so he had to sit closer so he could be called up.

Sirius had reluctantly turned himself into the DMLE that morning, and now he was escorted, chains around his wrists and ankles. He sent a long suffering look over at Hermione and the others, and Narcissa rolled her eyes, “Oh, honestly. Is he never serious?” She muttered. 

Remus snickered, “Don’t ask  _ him _ that. He’d tell you he’s always Sirius.” Narcissa sighed.

“Silence!” Kingsley’s  _ Sonorous _ enhanced voice rang out over the room, cutting off any conversations. “We are here for the trial of Sirius Orion Black III, heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, for the murder of twelve muggles and Peter Pettigrew on the 1st November 1981 and to determine whether Sirius Black revealed the location of the Potter’s to Voldemort on the 31st October 1981, leading to the death of Lily Potter. The use of veritaserum and the viewing of memories pertaining to these incidents are permitted to be used in this trial.” Kingsley paused for a moment to allow the scribe to catch up, “As this is a trial where these are permitted, there will be no prosecution or defense involved. Sirius Black, how do you plead?”

“Not guilty.” Sirius’ voice rang out over the room, clear and just a touch arrogant as always. Before Kingsley could begin Sirius carried on, “I will also be filing for compensation for the twelve years of unlawful imprisonment I was forced to suffer due to the Ministry’s neglect and lack of trial before imprisonment once I’m found innocent.”

Kingsley nodded, having known about this before. The audience and Wizengamot members had not however, so surprised gasps and murmurs sprung up around the room. “So noted.” Kingsley’s deep voice boomed out over the room and stopped all the whispering.

“Very well, let us begin. Mr Slughorn as you brewed the veritaserum we will be using in this trial you are responsible for administering it to Mr Black.” Horace Slughorn, who had had to be paid a rather ridiculous amount of money to agree to brew the potion and come to the trial to administer it, carefully dripped three drops onto Sirius’ tongue. It was so silent in the room you could have heard a pin drop whilst they waited for the veritaserum to take effect. 

Kingsley launched straight into the questions as soon as it had, “Please state your full name and date of birth for the record.”

“Sirius Orion Black. 3rd November 1959.” Sirius’ voice had the creepy monotone of those under veritaserum.

“Did you kill twelve muggles and the wizard Peter Pettigrew on the morning of 1st November 1981?”

“No.”

“Please describe what happened?”

“I followed that traitor Peter Pettigrew to London,” Sirius’ voice lacked any of the usual venom when he talked about Pettigrew, and Hermione found it unsettling to listen to, “Tracked him down, and then before I could kill him for what he did to Lily and James, he shouted for everyone to hear that I’d betrayed them. He cut his finger off. He had his wand behind his back, used it to blow up the street, and he transformed and scurried away.”

Hermione watched, enraptured, as a ripple of shock ran through the room. Kingsley’s voice was sharp and, even though he didn't raise his voice, it cut across the chatter like a whip, “What do you mean transformed? Transformed into what?”

“A rat. He was an illegal animagus.” Sirius was clearly struggling against the veritaserum now, not wanting to reveal too much. 

“Was? I thought you said that you didn't kill him and the muggles?” Hermione found it kind of amusing that Kingsley, who knew all of this already thanks to being an integral part of the Order, was questioning Sirius as though all this information was new.

“I didn’t. He blew them all up, and then when he transformed he lived as a rat called Scabbers with the Weasley family for 12 years. I was told by Harry that he died during the second war, working for Voldemort,” A shiver went around the room at the repetition of the name and Hermione and Harry shared a long-suffering look about it, “The silver hand Voldemort gave him turned on him and strangled him.”

“You say worked for Voldemort? Was it not you who revealed the location of the Potter family to him on the night of 31st October 1981?”

“No. I would never have!” Though the words were emphatic, Sirius’ voice was flat as he stared ahead and relayed the events monotonously. “We made me the secret keeper at first, but it was too obvious. Everyone would know it was me. So we switched to Peter in secret. We didn't know he was the spy. He was working for Voldemort the whole time.”

“Are you innocent or guilty of the crimes you are accused of, and currently on trial for?”

“Innocent. I didn't kill those muggles, I didn't kill Pettigrew and I wasn't the Potter’s secret keeper.”

“Very well.” Kingsley turned to the Wizengamot, who were whispering between themselves, “Sirius Black will submit his memories of the events described into evidence. We also have agreements from Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, and James Potter to enter their memories into evidence regarding all of the discussed crimes. Are there any Weasleys present who would be willing to submit their memories regarding Scabbers the rat?” Percy silently raised his hand and Kingsley nodded gratefully at him.

Kingsley stood from his seat, and addressed the room again, “We the Wizengamot will now have closed chambers to observe and discuss all of the memories put forward. We will then reconvene at 3pm today after we have heard privately from Harry and James Potter.” Kingsley waved his hand and the large double doors at the entrance of the chambers swung open. 

The break took much too long in Hermione’s opinion, they all went to lunch at a nearby cafe on Diagon Alley, except Harry who had had to stay behind to give his evidence to the Wizengamot. “I don’t understand why the audience can’t see the evidence being given by the witnesses?” Hermione complained, a furrow in her brow.

Narcissa sighed delicately, “It is the way it is, Miss Granger. It has always been the way, and it is unlikely to change.” Hermione hmph’d, shoving a large spoon of her soup in her mouth just to stop the rude words that wanted to spill out.

Remus, sitting across the table bouncing Teddy on his lap, smiled kindly at her, “Remember Arthur wasn't allowed in to see Harry’s trial at all.” Hermione frowned again, she hadn't agreed with that either, “It’s the way it has to be with these high profile cases, especially in this instance, there may be information we don't want the general public knowing. What if knowledge about how Voldemort stayed alive came out, and then everyone knew? That’s dangerous knowledge to have, Hermione.” 

Hermione sighed, she knew Remus was right, but she detested the guarding of knowledge. Anyone should be allowed to know something if they wished. Tonks laughed at the pout on Hermione’s face, “You going to sort them all out, ‘Mione?” 

“I wish!” She scoffed, taking a ferocious bite of her bread roll. 

“He will be alright,” Andromeda suddenly spoke up decisively. Unlike her daughter she was a quiet woman, much preferring to observe than take the spotlight, because of that she was very perceptive - all much too Slytherin traits in Hermione’s embarrassed opinion. “That man is resilient, and he is telling the truth. They will see that.” The threat was clear in her soft voice, if they didn't they’d have the full wrath of the restored Black House coming down on them.

Tonks grinned at her mother, and Narcissa nodded serenely, a fire burning in her pale eyes. Remus sent Hermione a look that suggested he was rather intimidated by the Black women, and Hermione snickered quietly.

By the time they were allowed back in the courtroom, anxiety had made them all silent. They took their seats as Sirius was dragged back out, looking immensely pissed off about something. Hermione watched with a worried frown, watching his flinch as he forced into his seat. She turned furiously to Remus, opening her mouth, they’d beat him! Remus just nodded before she could say anything, and she could see his tightly leashed anger simmering behind his eyes, which tinted gold when he tilted his head.

Once everyone was seated and silent again, Kingsley rose to his feet and recast his  _ Sonorous _ charm. “Has the Wizengamot come to a decision?” He asked clearly, and sat again.

Hyperion Greengrass, current spokesman for the Wizengamot, rose to his feet, “We the Wizengamot have come to a decision. Upon reviewing the evidence and testimony we have determined that Sirius Orion Black III, heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black,” Hermione rolled her eyes and nearly snarled, they needed to just bloody say it already! “Is not guilty of all the crimes for which he is accused and was imprisoned.” A cheer went up from their section of the stands and Hermione wiped away the tears that suddenly started spilling from her eyes.

Kingsley smiled, and stood back up, “Aurors remove the chains from Mr Black now please.” He gestured and they moved forward to do so straight away. “Mr Black, your vaults, titles, and lands will be returned to you over the following few days.”

Sirius stood from his chair, rubbing his wrists, “And my compensation? I’m innocent and I was locked away for twelve years without a trial!”

“Compensation has been agreed, and you will receive it by the end of the week.” Kingsley nodded to Sirius, taking his seat again. He opened his mouth to end the trial when Harry stepped up next to Sirius, a determined look on his face. “Mr Potter?” Kingsley asked warily.

Hermione watched as James smiled down at his son. When they’d gone over what would happen with this trial, they had all agreed that some things would be left out. It was agreed between Remus, Hermione, and James that Harry would be the best person to address the issues.

“Minister. What is going to be done about the men who imprisoned my godfather without a trial? They broke multiple laws doing so. I hope there’s going to be a trial for them?” Harry’s tone brooked no argument, and the mention of Sirius being his - the saviour’s - godfather had been tactical. Harry usually hated using his status for anything, but he’d happily do it for Sirius. “Cornelius Fudge and Bartemius Crouch Senior locked him away with no second thoughts.”

Hermione could see that what Kingsley really wanted to do was let out a long-suffering sigh, but he did rather well at keeping it held back. “Bartemius Crouch Sr. is dead, he died in 1995.”

“Yes, but Fudge, the former Minister of Magic, who wrongfully imprisoned the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, is still alive, and still sitting here on the Wizengamot and deciding the fates of people. How can you trust that?” Kingsley looked dismayed as whispers sprung up in agreement with Harry all around the room. The reporters in the corner were writing furiously.

“He will be looked into, and if needed, given a trial.” Harry nodded firmly at Kingsley, who was finally able to dismiss everyone. Harry grinned and, as everyone started to file out of the room, threw his arms around Sirius in a tight hug, soon being joined by James and the others from the stands. That was the picture that made the front page of the Daily Prophet that evening along with the announcement of Sirius’ innocence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	14. Mistakes were made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron says some things he can't take back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this one :D

**1st March 1999** **  
** **10am** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

Sirius was the first through the floo that morning, stumbling into the empty kitchen of Potter Manor. Hermione and Harry were both already away at their respective training. He turned back to the floo and started grabbing the shrunk down boxes being shoved through. Soon he had a large stack built up beneath and on top of the large kitchen table, and no more boxes came through, so he headed to the kettle - magically enhanced so that the electricity could work - to start boiling some water for tea.

“Pads, you’re here early!” James exclaimed, walking into the room half dressed with his dressing gown thrown over a pair of boxers.

Sirius looked James up and down, and raised an eyebrow, “Yeah bloody Remus and Tonks decided moving early would be a great idea.” He scoffed. “Remus took the day off from Hogwarts just to do this, and he still gets up bloody early!”

James laughed, “Well, the sanctuary does open tomorrow, Pads.” He gratefully accepted the cup of tea Sirius poured him, adding sugar and a splash of milk after he sipped it and grimaced. “You’re a barbarian.” He told Sirius, who just barked a laugh.

Sirius took his own cup, coffee not tea, black and unsweetened, over to the table, sitting down and kicking his feet up on the corner of the table, “Does Hermione know you walk around the house like that when she’s not here?” He asked with a grin.

“She knows as much about it as she does about your feet on the table.” James said around a bite of an apple he’d snatched from the bowl on the counter, “That woman is bloody scary, I’m not incurring her wrath.”

“Which woman is that, Prongs?” Remus asked, stepping through the floo with Teddy cradled in his arms, a bag slung over each shoulder. Tonks stepped through after him, her neon green hair covered in soot.

“Hermione.” Sirius butted in when James took too long to answer.

“She is rather brilliant.” Remus replied, setting Teddy down into the high chair already at the table, and dropping the bags to the floor.

“That’s everything,” Tonks said. She waved her wand in a complex series of patterns over the fireplace, shutting off the floo to Black Manor now that they weren't going to be living there anymore.

“How did the renovations go?” James asked, finishing off his tea, and rising to get started on making some food. “Anyone want some?” He asked as he peered into the cooling cabinet at the food available.

“Yes, please. None of us have eaten yet.” Remus pushed Sirius’ feet off the table and took the seat next to him, accioing the kettle and a couple of cups for him and Tonks. “And good, they finished yesterday. The wards are all up now and the potions room is fully stocked and ready to go. Did Flissy get over there okay?”

James chuckled, cracking four eggs into one pan, whilst he directed the bread to slice and toast itself. “Yeah, she was bloody pissed about leaving us, but she agreed. Hermione’s happy.”

“I bet.” Sirius snorted, throwing back the last of his bitter coffee. “She’s always been sensitive to House-elf issues. The first of the werewolves are moving in tomorrow.” 

“How many have you got living there permanently?” James started plating up the food, looking over at Remus and Tonks and pointing questioningly at Teddy. Tonks shook her head. 

“Five, so far.” Remus answered, getting up to carry a couple of the plates to the table even if James could have just magic-ed them over. “I think most are wary. We’ve got a lot more down to come on the night of the full moon, and even more to collect wolfsbane.” 

James nodded, unsurprised; werewolves were a suspicious bunch and had good reason to be. As soon as Sirius had received the hefty sum for compensation for his imprisonment he had put it all into having Black Manor renovated into a sanctuary for werewolves to live if they needed, be healed as they still weren’t allowed in St Mungos (something James was planning to change now he was on the Wizengamot), and spend the full moon with other wolves under full protection and on wolfsbane. Hermione has insisted on being the one to brew the wolfsbane, and Sirius had insisted on paying her handsomely for it. 

Sirius had, to Remus’ unending embarrassment, named it the Lupin Werewolf Sanctuary. The two House-elves in charge of Black Manor had happily agreed to carry on looking after it, and James and Hermione had both insisted that Flissy go to help. Sirius had used any leftover money and put it into a fund for the Sanctuary, then promptly hired Andromeda to look after the money and the place for him. As well as the compensation for Azkaban, Sirius had been granted the vast contents of the Lestrange vault, being the closest living male relative of the Lestranges. He had immediately, with a smirk, put the money towards the building and funding of a war orphanage. 

In silent agreement to not tell Remus, or get his hopes up, James and Sirius had also both started donating serious amounts of money towards researching a cure for lycanthropy. They also had plans to buy up Belby’s wolfsbane company and start distributing it at a highly discounted price (or free to those who couldn't afford to pay) to those werewolves who couldn't make it to the Sanctuary. When they had the company they were planning on then hiring werewolves who couldn't find work anywhere else to run it.

Breakfast passed quickly and happily, with the only incident being Teddy throwing the majority of his food down Sirius’ new muggle t-shirt. The animagus had swore loudly, whilst the others just laughed at him, Remus flicking his friend for swearing around the baby. Sirius just vanished the remnants in annoyance, but ruffled the little boy’s currently purple hair lovingly.

Sirius and the Lupins had been invited to move into Potter Manor with the three already living there, and they had accepted graciously. Though it had taken a lot of convincing on Remus’ part, who hated charity.

“Are Harry and Hermione here this evening?” Remus asked as he directed the dishes to wash themselves in the sink with a flick of his wand. Tonks lifted Teddy from his chair, and with a kiss for Remus and a wave of her fingers for the others disappeared to start unpacking - some of the boxes floating along behind her in the least orderly line ever. They all watched her head up the stairs with a chuckle.

“Second floor, Tonks!” Sirius shouted after her. She just waved a careless hand, barely avoiding tripping over the top step. “You ever worry about Teddy?” Sirius asked Remus amusedly.

“Don’t even.” Remus retorted, his voice tight. “I love her, but she is gonna be the death of me. Every time she has to go on a mission I worry she’s gonna trip and hex herself, and then she just carries Teddy around all willy-nilly tripping everywhere. I mean, I know she’s careful with him of course and-”

Sirius leaned over and put a quelling hand over Remus’ mouth, “Jeez mate, I shouldn't have asked.” Sirius sent James an imploring look when Remus just stared wide-eyed at them both over Sirius’ hand.

James laughed and shook his head, answering Remus’ earlier question, “No, Harry and Hermione are going out tonight. It's the birthday of that other mate of theirs. The Weasley we see hardly any of, the one training to be an Auror.”

“Ron.”

“Yeah that one. What’s the deal there anyway?” James leaned back in his chair casually, kicking his feet up on a spare chair so as to not incur Hermione’s future wrath. “Harry says he’s his best mate as well as Hermione, but I rarely ever see him over here.”

“I’ll leave you to explain that, Pads.” Remus said, worry still swirling in his eyes, “I’m gonna help Dora unpack.” He picked up a handful of the shrunken boxes and headed upstairs after his wife and son.

“He’s gonna fuss until she punches him or something.” Sirius said with a chuckle. He tilted his chair back onto two legs and balanced there as he mulled over James’ question. “Ron lived with them after the war at my parents’ house until Hermione brought me back, then lived with us at Black Manor.” Sirius scratched his stubbled chin briefly, “He and Hermione were dating when I came back, but they broke up in September before Hermione and Harry moved in here. I think it was amicable, but they were a little awkward, so Ron moved back with Molly and Arthur until he can save up for his own place.”

James hmm’d in thought, ignoring the curious tightening in his chest at the thought of Hermione and Ron together. Sirius grinned when James wasn't looking at him, it was too early, much too soon after Lily, but it was good to see that at some point in the future James may be able to move on.

**1st March 1999** **  
** **9pm** **  
** **Leaky Cauldron - London**

Hermione arrived late to Ron’s birthday drinks, something she detested doing, but Healer Mallory had kept her late reviewing a complex potion. She’d just had enough time to get changed in the locker room at work before apparating quickly over to the Leaky.

She hurried in, finding the place surprisingly packed for a Monday night, and spotted a table full of red-heads near the back. The Weasleys were out in force for Ron’s 19th. Fred and George cleared a space between them when she approached and she sat gratefully. “Thanks, boys.” She said with a sigh.

Fred leant over close, “You look tired, ‘Mione. You okay?”

“Yeah, work’s just busy.”

“Well don’t wear yourself so thin we can’t see you anymore!” George exclaimed jovially. 

She chuckled and accepted a glass of elf wine with thanks from Bill when he returned with a tray full of drinks. He just patted her kindly on the shoulder and headed ‘round the table handing out drinks to his siblings, only Percy and Charlie missing. He took his seat next to a softly smiling Fleur and lifted his glass in a salute, “Happy birthday, Ron!” The shout was echoed by everyone - as well as the Weasleys, Luna and Neville had joined them for the celebration.

The night passed quickly and cheerfully, though most stayed a lot more sober than they had at Hermione’s 19th considering it was a Monday. Ron, who had booked off the next day from his training, had been knocking back the firewhiskeys at a rather alarming rate. By the time it hit nearly midnight only Harry, Ron, the twins, and Hermione were the only ones left. Ron was slurring and slumped over on the table.

“What  _ is _ he going on about?” Hermione asked the table, hoping someone else was able to understand the mumbling at least.

Harry shrugged, “I think he said something about some girl he’s been seeing.”

At that Ron lifted his head from the table with a grin, “Calla!” He exclaimed, “She’s so pretty, her lips are amazing.” He stared off into the distance for a moment, and Fred and George snickered, “She’s the best I’ve had ya know?” Ron turned earnest eyes on Harry.

“Right, mate.” Harry patted his shoulder, looking mildly disgusted at the thought of women and sex together. “Thanks for the visuals.”

“She’s a fucking vixen in the sack.” Ron carried on, slurring his words still, but clearer now he thought he had an audience. He ignored Hermione’s horrified look, and Harry trying to get him to shut up, “I fucked her at work th’ other day. She’s so good. Not like ‘Mione. She was fucking frigid.” Hermione gasped, and covered her mouth with her hands, tears rising unbidden to her eyes. 

“Ron. Stop.” Harry’s voice was firm, and he reached out to touch Hermione’s arm lightly, trying to offer comfort. “Don’t carry on, you don't want to say something you’ll regret.”

Ron either didn't hear, or didn't care, “Three months and we only ha’ sex once. I could barely get hard, had to imagine someone else. Her boobs are-” Harry slapped his hand over Ron’s mouth, looking absolutely furious. The twins had scowls on their faces, and George drew his wand to silence Ron. None of them were quick enough to stop Hermione from fleeing the Leaky. Though Harry called after her multiple times.

She’d barely gotten out the door into the alleyway before she was apparating back to Potter Manor. Through her tears she navigated her way up the long path to the front entrance, hurrying her way through the doors and letting them slam shut behind her in her anguish. She finally let out a loud sob once in the safety of the house, covering her mouth and hurrying up to her room. 

She didn't notice James and Sirius having a drink in the kitchen, or that they’d heard her. They shared a look, and jumped to their feet as one, hurrying up the stairs to her room - where they heard her door slam.

They hesitated outside the door for a moment, but when Hermione sobbed again, Sirius shoved the door open, surprised she hadn’t locked it. She was curled up on the bed with her back to the door. Sirius didn't hesitate for a moment longer, climbing onto the bed behind her and pulling her into his arms. He stroked down her hair gently, and whispered comforting words into her ear.

James hovered in the doorway, watching  _ his _ best friend comfort  _ his son’s _ best friend, and felt jealousy rising and writhing in his stomach. He swallowed, feeling guilty and angry with himself for feeling jealous. It took some time, during which Sirius just held her, but eventually Hermione’s sobs died down. She lay there in silence for a bit, sniffing intermittently. “Sirius?” She finally whispered.

“Right here, Kitten.” He picked up one of her curls and twirled it lightly around his finger. “What happened, love?”

She tensed slightly in his arms, and then turned over to look at him. Her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears still, and her face was flushed and blotchy. “Ron.” She mumbled.

Sirius' arms tightened around her and she could tell he was holding back quite a few choice words about the fickle younger man. “What did he do?”

She blinked away the fresh tears, and curled further into Sirius’ chest, hiding her face as she spoke, “He- He said I was frigid. He said I was bad in bed.” She choked back another sob, and Sirius rubbed his hand slowly up and down her back comfortingly. James swallowed, still feeling much too jealous considering the circumstances, and left the room to go make some tea. 

“You can tell me, Kitten. I’ve got you.” He pulled her tighter against him, and pressed a kiss to her head, rage simmering in him over Ron.

“He said he had to  _ imagine someone else _ when we were having sex!”

“ _ WHAT?! _ ” Sirius shouted, sitting straight up abruptly, apologising quickly when Hermione collapsed to the bed beside him. “That fucker said what about you!?” Sirius jumped to his feet, and paced back and forth at the end of her bed, fuming, “Merlin, I'm gonna rip his fucking head from his shoulders!”

Hermione sat up too. She knew she should be telling him not to get so worked up, but she kind of felt vindictive right now - the upset fading and morphing to anger. How dare Ron say that about her!

“He couldn’t tell a sexy woman if she danced naked in front of him!” Sirius kept shouting, obscenities and curses about Ron falling from his lips. Hermione blinked - did Sirius just call her sexy?

“What’s going on?!” James exclaimed, when he came back into the room carrying the tea.

“Fucking Ron, I’m gonna castrate him.” 

By the time Sirius had explained what had happened, both Marauders were raging, and halfway down the stairs to go confront and/or beat Ron up. They were interrupted by Harry apparating into the front hall in front of them. “Where’s ‘Mione?”

“What the hell happened, Harry? Why didn't you stop Ron?” Sirius demanded, striding up to his godson.

“I did, but he got too much out before I did. Where is she?”

Sirius sighed angrily, gesturing behind him, “Upstairs, in her room. She came home sobbing. No friend should make you feel like that, Harry.”

“I know.” He nodded angrily, then rushed upstairs in search of Hermione. 

James and Sirius shared a look, “We’ll sort him later,” James finally said, and Sirius nodded in agreement. 

“I need a bloody stiff drink.” James followed Sirius back into the kitchen where the Ogden’s was sitting from earlier. Sirius poured them both a large glass, and they clinked their glasses together quickly before downing them in one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Ron, and I don't want this chapter to come across as Ron-bashing, but it worked for the plot *shrug*
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	15. A visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 22nd birthday for a 39 year old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad everyone enjoyed the last chapter so much. A little bit of a time skip in this one, and some sadness. Sorry haha

**27th March 1999** **  
** **2pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottingham** **  
** **Residence of Hermione Granger, Sirius Black, Harry, and James Potter, Remus, Nymphadora, and Teddy Lupin**

James hadn’t wanted to make a big fuss out of his birthday. He was technically supposed to be turning 39, but he’d disappeared from 1981 at the age of 21, and reappeared in 1998 the same age. So he’d decided to treat this as his 22nd birthday. It still felt weird being so much younger than his best friends, whom he’d grown up with, but it would’ve felt weirder to celebrate a 39th birthday when he didn't look or feel that old, and he hadn’t lived that many years.

He’d demanded from his friends to only have a small dinner or something with them and though Sirius and Remus had agreed he knew them too well, so he’d gone to Hermione and begged her to not let them make a spectacle. She had laughed lightly, but agreed in the end.

Thankfully Hermione had come through for him. When he’d woken that morning it had been a relief to have a small breakfast with just those in the house, and then he’d felt like a child ripping through his presents still dressed in his pyjamas.

After a small lunch, Harry had come over and put a light hand on his father’s shoulder, “Dad?” He said softly. James turned ‘round with a smile, always happy to see his son.

“What’s up Harry?” James suddenly noticed that everyone else had left the room. 

“I-” Harry hesitated, looking uncertain, “I don't want to make you unhappy on your birthday, but I thought you might want to come and see mum’s grave with me? I know you haven’t been yet, and I think it might be good for us both?”

James gaped for a moment at his son, his heart rose to his throat and tears sprung to eyes unbidden. He thought about her everyday still, and with everyday the pain lessened a little more, and the guilt about living whilst she hadn’t grew a little more. He swallowed thickly, but nodded when Harry sent him a questioning look, “Yeah. Yeah I think that would be nice.”

Harry smiled at his father, and together they apparated to Godric’s Hollow. Harry shivered as they walked down the large street in the middle of the small Wizarding village, James looked over at him questioningly. “You okay, Harry?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, just, didn't have a great experience last time I was here.” He glanced over at James, who was staring ahead in mute horror at the destroyed shell of Potter cottage, “Dad? Are  _ you _ okay?”

James startled, and turned to Harry with wide eyes, “Uh, yeah. I-” He looked back at the cottage for a moment, “Yeah, it’s just, I hadn’t seen it from the outside before.” He took a deep breath. “Come on, let's go.” He said, turning away from the destroyed house he’d woken in nearly six months ago, and heading towards the cemetery. Harry reached out and squeezed James’ shoulder tightly, as they walked through the gates. James swallowed, and turned back to Harry, “Where do we go?”

Harry led the way through to the back of the cemetery, towards the graves for his parents he’d first seen just over a year ago. He was thankful they’d come during the day and at a different time of year, if there’d been snow he thought it probably would’ve been a lot harder to do this. 

They finally got to the graves, and they both stared down at the two graves side-by-side. Last time Harry had been here he’d been lacking two parents, and this time he had one back by his side. It was surreal, but Harry couldn't help but be happy with it. James, unable to cope with his grief confronting him in such a way, collapsed to his knees, horror clawing up his throat and tears streaming from his eyes as he held in the loud sobs that wanted to escape. Harry dropped to his knees beside him and together the Potters grieved their lost member. 

James wasn't sure how long he’d been on the ground when he finally came back to himself. He had dirt caked under his nails, and the knees of his trousers were soaked through, and his son had warm arms wrapped around him, murmuring words of comfort in his ears.

“Harry?” He whispered hoarsely.

“Yeah?” Harry’s voice was quietly reverent.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What?”

“This is my fault. If I’d been quicker, or cleverer, or trusted the right goddamn person you wouldn't have grown up alone. Wouldn't have had to live with those awful Dursleys. Lily might’ve lived, Lily could’ve-” James’ voice was cut off by a sob, and he curled into himself again, “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

“No! Dad, no!” Harry exclaimed firmly, hauling James up to look him in the eyes, “It’s not your fault, none of this is your fault! You did everything you could. You and mum saved my life.” Harry’s green eyes were bright from his tears, but he smiled when James finally looked at him, “And any time I had with her then, or have with you now is enough.”

James pulled him into a rough hug, holding his son, his only son, close. He swallowed a couple of times, and cleared his throat, “Let’s go home, yeah?”

Harry pulled James up to his feet, and they picked their way out of the graveyard, “I shouldn't have brought you on your birthday, dad. I'm sorry.”

James shook his head roughly, turning Harry to look at him with hands tight on his shoulders, “No. This is what I needed. Thank you, son.”

They apparated back to Potter Manor together, and James disappeared upstairs for a while to get himself together. Harry headed towards the kitchen, through the doorway he could see Hermione, covered in cocoa powder and flour, screeching at a man who could only be Sirius (though Harry could only see his back). He frowned, wondering why he couldn't hear anything, until he stepped over the threshold, and the sound hit him like a wall.

“-all the irresponsible, reckless, stupid things to do! I’m trying to make a cake for  _ your _ best friend’s birthday, and you come in here with your loitering, and your jokes and ARRRGHHH!” Hermione gave an incoherent screech of rage, and turned back to the counter. She furiously vanished the ruined cake batter, and started all over again, pointedly ignoring Sirius when he stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, Kitten, don't be like that!”

“I am  _ not  _ talking to you, Sirius Black.” She snapped.

Harry, endlessly amused by his best friend and godfather’s loving but antagonistic friendship, settled himself quietly into one of the chairs at the large table, and leaned back to watch the show. He threw his feet up onto the table, crossing his ankles, and tilted his chair back, balancing as he watched Sirius try to cajole Hermione.

“If you get any closer Black I will hex you silly!” She screeched turning on him with a wooden spoon brandished, “Oh!” She exclaimed suddenly, the anger gone from her voice, “Harry. You’re back.” She blushed brilliantly, and sent Sirius a scowl.

Harry chuckled quietly, getting louder when Sirius turned around with an initial grin for his godson which turned to a scowl when he saw the way he was balancing on the table, and that Hermione hadn’t scolded Harry for it. “Yeah got back a few minutes ago, soon enough to witness this spectacle.” He said through his laughter. “How’s the cake going?”

Hermione huffed, “I should’ve just bought a bloody cake! But I thought it would be more thoughtful doing this.”

“James’ll love it, Kitten.” Sirius promised, moving away to take a seat at the table too.

Hermione shrugged, though both men could see she was pleased. They exchanged a look, but neither said anything, it was too early to acknowledge the way James and Hermione looked at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. James was nowhere near ready to think about that.

“How did it go, Harry?” Hermione asked gently, cracking eggs manually into the bowl. No matter how long she knew about magic, there were just some things that were better done the Muggle way.

Harry sighed, righting himself in his chair, and summoning a bottle of wine from the cooling cabinet and a glass from the cupboard. Sirius made a gesture, and Harry summoned and poured him a glass of the Muggle white wine too. “Not good. He pretty much broke down when we got to her grave. I knew it would be bad, but I think his birthday was a bad idea.”

Sirius shook his head, “He needed to go sooner or later, and I think sooner is better honestly. He needs to get it out, holding in that much grief will destroy him.” Sirius snorted into his wine glass quietly and muttered, “Believe me, I know that.”

Hermione came over and rested a hand gently on Sirius’ shoulder before pulling Harry into a hug, “He’ll be okay, Harry. All of this has been a shock to his system. I bet this just drove everything home for him.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully, and took a big gulp of wine, “It’s weird you know?” He finally said to them both, turning to check out the door and make sure James wasn't around, “He feels more like a brother than a father. I think it’s the age thing.”

“Most likely,” Hermione nodded, squeezing his shoulder, “But there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Harry shrugged morosely, “I dunno. It feels wrong, you know. I’ve got my dad back finally, something I’ve always wanted, and yet I still think of Sirius more as my father than my real father!” Harry was practically shouting now, on his feet. He took a brief moment to be grateful for the silencing charm still active over the kitchen.

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, and pulled him into a tight hug. He hugged her back just as tightly, and that was what James walked into a few minutes later. He resolutely and angrily ignored the twist in his stomach at their embrace.

“Alright, Prongs?” Sirius asked tentatively, his sharp grey eyes examining his best friend as he took the seat opposite him at the table.

James nodded, swallowing tightly, emotions still a little too close to the surface. “Yeah, mate. I’ll be okay.”

Harry sat back down beside James and pushed his half-full wine glass towards his father, James took the glass with a grateful smile, and almost choked on the sip he took when Hermione placed a kind hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently in silent support.

Clearly noticing the tears brewing in James’ eyes again, Hermione shooed them all out of the kitchen. “Go on, go find Remus or something. I have secret birthday things to do,” She said with a small smile and surreptitious wink in James’ direction.

**27th March 1999** **  
****10pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottingham**

It took Hermione a lot longer to make the damn cake than she wanted, but when it, and dinner courtesy of Harry, were ready, the household gathered in the dining room to celebrate James’ birthday. Per his request they were the only ones there, even though Mrs Weasley had been hinting about it ever since they’d had a quiet celebration for Remus’ birthday too.

James sat at the head of the table and they spent a boisterous and happy evening eating a delicious dinner, finished with Hermione’s cake and firewhiskey. After they were done Remus disappeared upstairs to take a very tired Teddy to bed, and the rest of them moved to the Drawing Room.

James found himself at the back of the group, following Hermione into the room. As she walked her muggle jeans hugged her bum and thighs perfectly, and the crop top she’d been wearing all day rode up and showed off a tantalising strip of dimpled lower back. He knew the view from the front was just as good, her stomach with her - surprisingly - pierced belly button, and her wild hair tumbling down over shoulders and tits. 

James sucked in a horrified breath, suddenly realising just where his mind had gone. He stopped in the doorway into the room, and stared into space as the panicked thoughts started swirling. How could he? He’d been visiting his wife’s grave just a few hours ago, and now here he was checking out some girl just because she was there, and beautiful, and intelligent, and funny, and caring.  _ FUCK _ . James clenched his teeth and his fists, jerking in place when Sirius called his name, and stalking further into the room. 

He took the seat furthest from Hermione, his son beside him and resolutely did not look in her direction for the rest of the night. If anyone noticed they didn't say anything, and Hermione pushed away the hurt that swelled in her at the action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought. I didn't include James, Sirius, and Harry confronting Ron as it didn't feel like it fit in the fic, but assume it definitely happened!


	16. I can tell you the why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go on for the life Lily gave hers so you could have

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some depressing stuff later in this chapter - fair warning. James is healing, but it’s not a linear process and it’s not easy.
> 
> OMG we're halfway through! Thank you for all your lovely comments <3 I love hearing your predictions and everything haha, wish I could confirm or deny, but you'll find out ;)

**5th April 1999** **  
****8pm**   
**Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottingham**

Her apprenticeship felt like it was speeding her past, and she loved nearly every second of it. Days like today made her question all of her decisions however. Healer Mallory had had her studying a near-incomprehensible potions book from nearly 700 years ago, and now her eyes were strained, her back and neck hurt from sitting hunched over all day, and she still had a lot to catch up on for tomorrow. 

Exhausted, she stepped through the floo into the surprisingly empty kitchen, poured herself a large, hot cup of strong coffee and then climbed the stairs to the library. Looked like she’d be spending another few hours studying tonight. She set her coffee down on a table near the back of the large Potter library, dropped her bag onto a chair and quickly and efficiently pulled her wilder-than-usual curls into a utilitarian plait.

She yanked off her large fluffy jumper - her trainee robes already discarded on the hook downstairs - revealing her dark skin in just a tank top to the warm air of the library, which kept at a constant temperature thanks to the multiple spells on it to preserve the books. Then she collapsed into an empty chair with a large sigh of relief. She stretched her jean clad legs out in front of her, and relaxed very briefly into the chair, allowing herself a moment of silence before she worked her brain hard again.

She sat up after a minute, took a big sip of her coffee, burnt her tongue and had to hastily spit her mouthful back into her cup with a loud curse. She cast a slight cooling charm on the coffee and tried again, sighing happily when the warmth from the drink infused her tired body. She pulled one of her books closer, and went back to her studying, scribbling notes hastily with her muggle biro on the muggle notebook she insisted on using instead of the damn parchment everyone still used.

She had no idea how long had passed when James found her there later, he sat down in one of the seats opposite her, the loud scrape of the chair being pulled away from the table against the polished floors shocked her out of her intense focus. She made a small squeak of surprise when she looked up and saw him there.

“Hi, Hermione.” He said with a cheeky grin.

Hermione frowned at him, putting her pen down gently on her notebook. She swallowed, and narrowed her eyes at him, “James.” She finally said curtly, when he’d started fidgeting in his seat. She felt kind of bad being so rude to him, but he’d been practically ignoring her since his birthday for no apparent reason, so she was a little pissed off with him.

“Everything okay?” He asked, a little furrow between his brows, though it did nothing whatsoever to detract from his handsome face. 

Hermione sighed, “It’s fine.” She looked at him for a moment, and decided to embrace her blunt side, “What do you want, James? You’ve been avoiding me for a while.”

James flinched a little, and leaned back in his chair, unconsciously moving away slightly, “I’m sorry.” He said quietly, “I didn't mean to. I’ve just had a lot of stuff stirred up recently.” He winced, and looked away from Hermione’s piercing brown eyes. 

It was Hermione’s turn to wince, unable to believe her audacity, the poor man was still adjusting to this new world, and he’d only just been to see his wife’s grave for the first time. “No, I’m sorry, James. I overreacted, you’ve had so much to deal with.” 

They both chuckled awkwardly and silence fell between them for a long moment, before James cleared his throat, “How are you really, Hermione? You look tired.”

Hermione huffed, “I am. Healer Mallory is a hard task master, she’s got me reading books that even _I_ can’t comprehend because their sentence structure is so obscure, or they use words that have no proper translation to modern English. It’s interesting, but blimey it’s bloody frustrating too!”

James smiled slightly as he watched her, “I mean, it certainly sounds like you love it.” He pointed out.

Hermione sighed and nodded, “I do, truly. It feels good to get back to learning after the horrible year we had instead of seventh year. It’s just a little stressful.” She said with a chuckle.

“You wouldn't give it up for anything, would you?” James asked around a grin.

Hermione laughed, “No, you’re right. I wouldn't.” Her face flushed slightly at the brilliance of James’ smile directed fully at her. She fumbled a bit, trying to come up with something to say to take his attention off her somewhat. Her eyes fell on her books and she found herself wondering what he had done with his life before everything. “What did you do after Hogwarts?” She asked curiously.

James let out a bark of laughter that sounded scarily like Sirius, and threw his head back, “You’d have hated me, Hermione.” He said with a grin, “Me and Lily married the September after we graduated in 1978, and then we moved into Potter Cottage,” His eyes flickered sadly when he mentioned his wife, and their home, but he pressed gamely on, a smile hovering around his lips, “I hung around and lived off of my inheritance after my parents died, I basically paid for anything and everything Remus needed with it. Sirius did the same for a little bit, but after we went into hiding with Harry he got a job as an Auror. I wanted to join once we got out of hiding, but obviously that didn't happen.” James chuckled ruefully, and Hermione was amazed at his resilience.

This man had gone through so much, and then one day when he was only 21, Voldemort had broken into his house and he’d thought he’d died, only to wake up and realise he’d missed seventeen years. He’d woken to a world change irrevocably; his friends older, his wife dead, his son a man, and the thing that had destroyed it all suddenly destroyed. He’d gone from a world in the midst of a terrible war, just to wake to a world in the aftermath of a second terrible war.

Hermione wasn't sure how he had been coping, but amazingly he mostly had been. Though Professor McGonagall had told her the first month before she forced him to leave Hogwarts he had not left his rooms, and the House-elves had reported he spent most of his time locked away in his head, looking devastated.

She smiled, suddenly realising James was waiting for a response. “I wouldn't have hated you!” She insisted. “Though I certainly wouldn't have stood for you just schlubing around and living off of your inherited money.” She scoffed.

James laughed, loud and happy, “I can’t imagine you would have, love.” He sent her a devastating smirk, and she pretended her stomach didn't flutter and her face didn't warm. She didn't control her resulting grin though, happy to see him happy after how down he’d looked since his birthday.

“I hope you’re not planning on living off of your fortune now.” She suddenly exclaimed, narrowing her eyes when he grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her. He jumped to his feet. “James!” She called after him, huffing when he just waved his hand jauntily over his shoulder as he strolled casually out of the library.

**28th April 1999** **  
****11pm**   
**Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottingham**

James settled himself into bed, relaxing into the cool sheets comfortably with a tired sigh. He’d spent the last few hours being regaled with stories courtesy of a delighted Sirius who had been invited back to join the Aurors a few weeks ago, and had started his re-training last week.

James had been considering for the last few weeks what he should do with his time, but hadn't really come to any kind of conclusion. Remus had pointed out to him that there was currently a Transfiguration Professor position vacant ever since Professor McGonagall had been permanently installed as the Headmistress. James wasn't ready to return to Hogwarts again though, and certainly not as a _Professor_. 

When he’d asked Hermione seriously what she thought he should do, she had just smiled kind of mysteriously at him and told him not to rush it, that it would come to him. Sirius had been no help either, just urging James to join the Aurors with him and wreak havoc. As tempting as that had been, James had no desire to spend his time hunting down bad guys and risking his life.

He’d yet to ask his son, but in a way he wanted to figure it out himself, not rely on others to tell him what to do with his life. There was no rush after all. For the first time in what felt like forever, he had the rest of his life ahead of him, and it was practically guaranteed.

It was he was settling deeper into his bed happily, thoughts finally calming down, that he realised he hadn’t thought of Lily all day. Usually she came to mind frequently, and he would spend a few minutes thinking about the woman he had loved and lost. But today, he hadn’t. She hadn’t crossed his mind once, and the guilt at that thought was eating him alive. 

She’d given her life so their son could live, and he had failed at doing the same. He didn't deserve to go on and not respect her sacrifice by not loving her and thinking of her everyday. She had been the best of him, and now guilt rose in his chest, squeezed his heart, and choked him. How could he, he berated himself, he was just going about his day and living; undeserving, when she couldn't anymore.

He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat forcefully, and when that didn't do anything, he jumped from the bed, and just managed to make it into his en-suite bathroom to throw up violently in the loo. He pulled the flush down and then dry heaved over the bowl for a moment longer, everything he’d eaten earlier expelled. As he sat there, hugging the bowl, panting, tears started to well in his eyes and rolled down his face until he was sobbing desperately into his loo, and muttering “I’m sorry” over and over again.

That was how Sirius found him an indeterminate amount of time later. Sitting slumped over his toilet pitifully, dried tear tracks marred his young face and the horrible taste of vomit still lingered in his mouth.

“Prongs?”

James blinked blearily up at his best mate, his brother, and whispered, “Pads. I can’t do it.”

Sirius stepped carefully further into the room, dropping to his knees next to James, “Can’t do what, mate?”

“Go on, without _her_. How do I do it?” James looked beseechingly up at his best friend, he grabbed onto Sirius’ hand when he offered it like a lifeline and let Sirius pull him to his feet. “How did you do it?”

Sirius sighed, performing a quick cleaning charm on James, and then dragged him back into his bedroom. He let James drop to the bed, and watched as he curled morosely around a pillow, still looking expectantly at Sirius for an answer. “I can’t tell you the how, mate.” Sirius finally said, shrugging, “I’m still working on that. I had twelve years locked up in Azkaban, where I had bigger things on my mind. Then I was on the run for a year, then worrying about Harry for a year, and then I was in the veil. I didn't get a chance to even contemplate trying to get over yours and Lily’s deaths until Hermione pulled me back out. And now you’re alive again.” Sirius looked away from James’ piercing stare, “So, I can’t tell you the how…”

“Then what do I do?”

“I _can_ tell you the why.” Sirius said, acting as though James hadn't interrupted.

“Why?” James whispered.

“Harry - your son, you go on for him, you go on for me and Remus - your best mates, you go on for the new friendships you’ve made, you go on for the possibilities of Harry’s life in the future, you go on for Hermione, Teddy, Tonks, the Weasleys you’ve made friends with, you go on for Hermione’s blasted cat, the fucking plants in the garden! You go on for everything and everyone else, and eventually-” Sirius looked down at a captivated and quietly sobbing James, and wiped away the tears that had gathered in his own grey eyes, “And eventually, you go for yourself. You live for you, for the life you can have here and now. You go on for the life Lily gave hers so you could have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought :D


	17. The first annual ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it says on the tin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably about double the length of my normal ones whoops lol! Couldn't find anywhere good to split it.

**1st May 1999** **  
****5pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

The first annual ball to celebrate the end of the war was to be held at the Ministry in the ballroom Hermione wasn't aware they had. Thankfully it had been scheduled a day before the year anniversary, because her and Harry had agreed to spend the next day in quiet remembrance for those who had given their lives. 

Ron had originally been invited, but after the fiasco of his birthday and the cruel words he’d directed at Hermione, she’d been avoiding him. She knew that even if she tried to stop avoiding him before he’d properly apologised, James and Sirius would have some choice words for her, especially if they didn't deem his apology good enough. She thought they’d probably taken his words worse than her, which was saying something. 

Ginny and Luna had come back from Hogwarts for the weekend and had come over to get ready for the ball with Hermione, ushering her up to her room hours before they needed to be there just to get primped and polished. Ginny had hunted through Hermione’s wardrobe, throwing dress after dress over her shoulder until there was a pile of discarded clothes behind her.

“Ginny, do you have to make such a mess?” Hermione complained, picking up the pile of clothes and dropping them onto the bed.

“Urgh! You have nothing to wear ‘Mione!” Ginny groaned, poking her head back out of the wardrobe, “Why do you have nothing to wear?!” 

“Because I don’t usually go to balls?” Hermione said with a short laugh.

“Just transfigure something.” Luna suggested, flopping back on the uncovered part of the bed, her eye-watering sunshine yellow robes floating up around her as she did. She had sewn real daisies along the hem and neckline, and had more woven into her long blonde hair. She swished her hand as though her wand was in it.

Ginny swore, buried back in the wardrobe again, then came fully out, scowling, “Why didn't I bloody think of that?” She sat down in the chair Hermione kept in the corner of the room with a huff, “Well,” She said, gesturing at the pile of clothes on the bed, “Is there anything there you’re happy with me transfiguring?” 

Hermione sighed, but resigned herself to having to wear something fancy that Ginny transfigured for her instead of the dress she’d been planning on wearing. She picked up a ratty shirt from the pile she used to sleep in, and handed it over to Ginny, “Here you go.”

It didn't take Ginny long to transfigure Hermione some dress robes that Hermione would have never chosen for herself. They were a dark maroon, and flowed over her curves, with a long slit up the side of one thigh, it had a high neck, and was backless - a scoop that showed her bare skin off all the way down to her lower back. 

“This is too much Ginny,” Hermione said, looking at herself in the mirror. “I’m showing way too much skin! It’s a damn ministry function.”

Ginny just tutted and ignored Hermione, helping her pull her hair back into some semblance of an elegant style, though a lot of wayward curls and frizz still managed to work their way out. 

“Ginny-”

“Oh stop, Hermione! You look fucking amazing, you’re gonna knock everyone’s socks off at the ball.”

Hermione swallowed tightly, there was only man’s socks she secretly wanted to knock off, but it was never going to happen. She had to get over it already. Hermione sighed, “Fine. Let’s go already.” 

Ginny laughed at her reluctance, putting the finishing touches to her own dark green dress robes, even more risque than Hermione’s, they finished above her knee, hugging all of her curves. They had a deep v-neck that showed off Ginny’s generous decolletage and cutouts over her waist and hips.

“Let’s go!” Luna crowed, jumping to her feet, and swirling out of the room. Ginny and Hermione just smiled at each other and followed their friend downstairs to the open access floo.

To Hermione’s surprise they found James, Sirius, and Harry waiting for them there. Remus and Tonks had left not long before to drop Teddy off with Andromeda and Narcissa who had both decided to not attend the ball. She couldn't stop herself from admiring the way James’ robes looked on him, hugging his broad shoulders. She swallowed and looked away guiltily, her eyes catching on his son, and causing her to feel worse - this was a man who’d only just recently lost his wife!

Because she was looking away, Hermione didn't notice James’ eyes widening and skimming over her body in her new robes, but Ginny and Luna did and shared a grin. “You girls look gorgeous!” Sirius said with a large grin, waggling his eyebrows so much that they all broke out laughing. 

Harry grinned, and rolled his eyes at his godfather’s antics. “He’s right, you all look amazing. And we need to hurry now, because Kingsley has me giving a bloody speech in half an hour, and I want to be at least one drink in when I do it.” Harry chuckled at the scandalised look Hermione sent him, and hooked his arm through hers, pulling her to the floo.

They all stepped through the floo into the large Ministry entrance hall, decorated tastefully for the evening's celebrations. Hermione and Harry stood to the side until everyone had come through, and then the three men escorted the three young women into the ballroom, which was just as tastefully decorated.

Hermione took in the amount of people milling about in the room, and took a deep fortifying breath. Harry was pulled away by a harassed looking Kingsley as soon as they stepped into the room, and Luna and Ginny both sauntered off to the bar to grab drinks. Hermione was left standing between two thirds of the Marauders, all three of them surveying the room.

“You okay, Kitten?” Sirius asked quietly. When Hermione glanced over at him, his face was blank and she could see his tense jaw. All three of them had become rather reclusive recently, and Hermione could see the strain the amount of people was having on Sirius as well as her. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Harry was right though, I need a drink.” She said around a tense laugh. She glanced at James, and though he looked more relaxed than Sirius, he had a frown between his brows as he looked around the room. When he noticed her looking at him, he reached out and squeezed her hand lightly and just nodded at her querying look.

“I’m alright.” He whispered.

Sirius barked a humourless laugh, “Merlin, Prongs, we used to be the outgoing ones.” He looked over at James who chuckled, “Can you imagine.”

“Hermione’s right, Padfoot. We need drinks.” James held his arm out to Hermione gallantly, and she threaded her arm through his with a small smile. Sirius held his arm out the other side, not one to be overdone by his best mate.

“Lots of drinks.” Sirius agreed.

They headed over to the bar, which appeared empty at first glance, but turned out to be magically run. Hermione spoke her order into the little speaker on the bar and paid the appropriate sickles into the receptacle, and her drink was prepared for her with no human involvement. She watched the whole process fascinated. 

She moved out of the way whilst the men ordered their drinks, turning her back to the bar to observe the room. She scanned the room, eyes locking on Ron standing next to some of his brothers over by a ridiculous ice sculpture, she avoided his gaze when he looked up, and let her eyes drift over the dancers.

She had just taken a sip of her sparkling elf wine when her eyes locked on Ginny, dancing in the arms of - of all people - Pansy Parkinson, she choked on her mouthful, spluttering whilst her eyes watered from the liquid going down the wrong way.

“You okay, ‘Mione?” Harry asked worriedly, suddenly appearing by her elbow, somehow he’d managed to ditch the company of the Minister, though it wasn't likely to be for long considering his speech was set to be soon.

Hermione nodded, coughing a bit to clear her throat, and gestured to the dance floor. Harry frowned, and his eyes narrowed a little as he scanned the floor. She could see the moment he noticed what she did as his eyes widened dramatically. He took a furious step forward, but Hermione grabbed onto his arm and kept him where he was.

“Harry, don't.” 

“But ‘Mione-” He gestured at their friend, “It’s Parkinson.  _ Pansy Parkinson _ .” He emphasised as if Hermione might have actually forgotten who she was.

“Yes, it is. The woman who tried to turn you over to Voldemort, I am aware.”

“Exactly-”

“However, Ginny is aware too.” She raised an eyebrow at Harry, chastising him, “So Parkinson must have told her something to make up for that.”

Harry huffed but acquiesced with a nod. Sirius put his head on Hermione’s shoulder, leaning against her as he surveyed the room too, “What’s Harry here getting his knickers all in a twist about?”

Hermione snickered a little at Harry’s affronted look, and gestured towards Ginny and Pansy dancing, “Ginny’s dancing with Pansy Parkinson.”

“Parkinson!?” James demanded incredulously, coming up to stand next to Hermione, and sending a glare at Sirius that confused her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Oh, honestly. Like father, like bloody son.” Sirius snickered again, but didn't say anything. James spluttered, but looked away shamefaced.

“Aww, fuck.” Harry muttered under his breath, downing the rest of his glass of firewhiskey, “Kingsley’s coming this way. Time for the damn speech.” They all laughed as Harry sent Kingsley a disgruntled look when the man waved him over, but obeyed and headed that way.

“There’s Moony and Tonks!” Sirius crowed happily, and bound away to greet them at the entrance to the ballroom. 

“Sometimes I wonder if he’ll ever grow up.” Hermione said around a sigh.

James just sent her an incredulous look, complete with a raised eyebrow, “I hope you realise the answer to  _ that _ question is never.” He said with a loud laugh at the annoyed look on Hermione’s face.

The music stopped at that moment and a nervous Harry climbed the stairs up to the stage where the Weird Sisters had been playing. Hermione didn't mean to, but she tuned out Harry’s speech after the first couple of words, having heard him practising it for the last few weeks all the damn time.

She spent a while people watching; Ginny and Pansy were still together, standing surprisingly close together, Pansy’s arms wrapped around Ginny’s waist and her head resting on the redhead’s shoulder. She narrowed her eyes, she’d need to ask Ginny about that later, because they looked much too comfortable for this to be the first time they were spending time together.

Her eyes skipped around the room, settling on Ron where he was still standing with Bill and Fleur, and they had since been joined with Luna who was leaning close to Ron earnestly, an uncharacteristically serious look on her face. 

Malfoy was also in attendance to the ball, obviously back from Hogwarts for the weekend like Ginny and Luna, he was standing with some of his friends from school, most of whom Hermione knew had neglected to go back to Hogwarts for eighth year, and had instead started on their careers like her, Ron, and Harry. Zabini and Nott were both there, all three of them looking every inch the Pureblood heirs that they were in impeccable (and obviously expensive) dress robes. Goyle was surprisingly absent, and Hermione wondered where he was, as she couldn't see him anywhere else in the large room.

She locked eyes briefly with Malfoy, who nodded amicably at her, sending a look at James who was still standing next to her. If she didn't know better she would have said the look was scared. Nott and Zabini, seeing where Malfoy was looking, also both looked over in her direction, and she sent them both sharp nods, looking quickly away from the group of attractive men, though she could still feel their eyes on her even after she looked away.

“Who are they?” James asked in a tight voice. She sent him a scrutinising look, but couldn't see why he sounded so annoyed. He wasn't looking at her, staring back over at the trio of Slytherins.

She looked back over at them, finding Zabini still looking at her, surprising intensity on his handsome face. “Well, I’m assuming you know Draco,” She asked with a laugh. James just nodded curtly, “The pale one with the dark hair is Theodore Nott-”

James looked at her sharply, “Son of Thoros Nott?” She nodded, a frown on her face when he scowled, and looked back over at the Nott heir, “Why the hell isn’t he in Azkaban with his Death Eater scum of a father?” He snapped.

Hermione sighed, “Because he’s not a Death Eater?” She said, still frowning, “He actually didn't get that involved with the war at all. I've not spoken much to him, but he’s perfectly civil, and seems rather nice.”

James scoffed, but didn't say anything further, “And the other?”

Hermione looked away from James, “Blaise Zabini, also a Slytherin, but he and his mother were pretty neutral in the war.”

“His mother? Don't think I know the name Zabini?”

“I don’t know too much about him, he was always quiet at school. I think his father was Italian, but I do know he’s not alive anymore. According to rumours,” Hermione’s sceptical tone told James what she thought of rumours, “He’s had six stepfathers who’ve all died in suspicious circumstances and left obscene amounts of money to his mother. I think her name is Clara?”

James made an interested noise, his eyes still on the Slytherins, who were no longer looking at them, “I remember there was a Clara in Slytherin in the year below us. She had a lot of boyfriends whilst we were at school. She ‘dated’ Sirius briefly, but he got bored with her,” He chuckled at his friend’s antics, and Hermione rolled her eyes, used to the stories of the player Sirius Black used to be, “She tried to get with both me and Remus, but we weren't interested.” He grinned, “For obvious reasons.”

She chuckled, and looked up, surprised when the music started up again; they’d been so distracted they missed all of Harry’s speech. James opened his mouth to say something further, but before he could, he was interrupted.

“Granger, may I have this dance?” Hermione started, staring in shock at the man standing in front of her. He looked even better this close up than he had across the room. He was wearing a set of dark gold robes that made his dark skin and eyes practically glow. She sucked in a sharp breath as she checked him out, blushing bright when he raised an eyebrow at her and smirked like he’d noticed her checking him out.

“Zabini,” She greeted politely. She ignored the way James stiffened beside her at the appearance of the Slytherin. “You may.” She put her hand delicately in his outstretched hand, allowing him to pull her towards the dance floor. She looked back as they walked and was confused at the scowl on James’ face as he watched them go.

“You look absolutely delectable in those robes, Granger.” Zabini said, blatantly checking her out as he swung her into his arms for the dance.

She blinked, and blushed again, “Hermione,” She said softly, catching Zabini’s confused look when he glanced down at her, “Call me Hermione. We are dancing after all.”

Zabini examined her quietly for a moment, not allowing any emotions to show on his handsome face, “Very well. Then please call me Blaise.” Hermione tried not to notice how smooth and alluring Blaise’s voice was, and failed miserably. 

They danced in silence for a while, and Hermione took the time to try to distract herself from how lovely Blaise’s arms felt around her and how she wanted to push closer. She hadn’t dated anyone since Ron, and it was clearly getting to her if she was seeking comfort in the arms of a Slytherin, even one who had always been less than interested in House rivalry. First she was checking out Harry’s bloody father, and now this. Honestly, what was going on with her heart - and head.

Blaise was already much too tall and attractive, and now he just had to be an amazing dancer too. His voice was mesmerising, and as he twirled Hermione fast past another couple, she noticed he also smelled amazing. She swallowed a little and tried to concentrate on something else. This blasted man was overwhelming all of her senses.

“So, Hermione,” Blaise started, distracting Hermione from her thoughts, “What have you been doing since the end of the war? I hear from Draco you didn't go back to Hogwarts.” 

Hermione nodded, and Blaise looked down at her, diverting his gaze from wherever he’d been staring off at, “I didn’t. I’m training to be a potions master under Healer Mallory at St. Mungo’s. What are you doing?” She asked, genuinely curious.

He smiled slightly, practically a grin by Slytherin standards, twirling her out from him briefly, and then pulling her back in tight to him, “I’ve taken over running the family business. My most recent step-father distracted my mother so much it was nearly run into the ground, so I’ve been working to restore it. It’s hard work, but needed.”

Hermione couldn't hide her briefly surprised look. “Oh.” She whispered.

Blaise let out a short laugh and looked down at her again as he gently spun her around the dancefloor, “Surprised?”

She grimaced, and nodded, “Sorry, most of the Purebloods I know are happy to rest on their laurels and live off the family money.” She said with a small snort, and an eye roll, thinking about two of her housemates specifically.

Blaise nodded, “I’ve never been happy to rest on my laurels.” A surprisingly comfortable silence fell between them for a moment, before he spoke up again - she’d never thought of him as a chatty guy from what little she knew of him, but he was proving her wrong. “I’m surprised  _ you _ didn't go back to Hogwarts,” He commented. Hermione stiffened a little in his arms, and went to pull away slightly. She opened her mouth, but Blaise interjected first, pulling her back in - even closer than she’d been before, “I mean no insult. We may not have known each other at Hogwarts, but everyone knew how studious you were.”

Hermione sighed, and nodded her acquiescence, he wasn't wrong after all. She took a brief moment to think on how much she wanted to reveal to him, “I couldn’t go back there. I took the opportunity in the summer to take my NEWTS.”

Blaise hummed thoughtfully, and locked eyes with her, his dark gaze penetrating. “I can’t say I blame you,” He finally commented, not breaking their stare until Hermione found she had to look away. 

“Was it the same for you?” She asked after a moment, not exactly comfortable talking about the aftermath of the war, but feeling it wouldn't be polite to not ask him. He looked down at her again, questioningly. “Not going back to Hogwarts.” She clarified.

He sighed, and glanced away. When she followed his gaze, she saw he was looking at some of his former housemates - Nott, Goyle, and a young woman Hermione realised after a moment was Daphne Greengrass. “Partially,” He admitted after a moment of another comfortable silence between them. The song had changed without either of them noticing as Blaise twirled her around the dancefloor and automatically adjusted his dancing to the slower tempo song. “Though our seventh year was certainly easier as Slytherins, it was not enjoyable, and I did not want to go back when I had the opportunity otherwise.”

Hermione nodded, “Understandable,” She muttered towards his chest, not wanting to look up at him.

She felt him take a deep breath below the hand she had resting on his firm chest, “I also knew we wouldn't be received well.” 

She stiffened slightly in his arms, but didn't pull away or look up at him. “We?” She questioned quietly when he hesitated and didn't go on. She was surprised he was opening up to her like this, so she certainly didn't want to do anything to jeopardise it.

“Yes. We. The returning Slytherins.” He was steadfastly not looking at her when she looked up to try to glean something from his expression - his voice was steady and quiet and gave nothing away of his true thoughts. “The younger years will be fine, they won’t be shunned in the same way as the older Slytherins will be, because they weren't involved in the war.” He cleared his throat, and glanced briefly down at her, looking away again quickly when their eyes met. “But our year, and probably the new seventh years, we were right in the thick of it, stood by while our fellow students were  _ tortured _ by Death Eaters masquerading as teachers. We’re not so easy to forgive.” Blaise’s voice was hard, and Hermione suddenly realised they’d come to a stop on the edge of the dancefloor.

She looked around, and saw James and Sirius’ eyes on them, when they saw her looking they both made to start coming over, but she shook her head hard. She needed to hear this, and Blaise needed to get this out, and if he’d chosen her as his confidant, she wasn't going to let him down. “I’ve forgiven you.” Hermione whispered, her cheeks heating when he glanced down at her, shock written across his handsome features before he masked it again. 

She could see his facade still had cracks in it though, so she grabbed his hand and dragged him from the room after her, away from the hustle and bustle of the still roaring ball. She pulled him ‘round the corner and into an empty hallway. “What are you doing, Granger?”

“Hermione, remember? You didn't look like you’d want people to see you in any kind of emotional state.” 

Blaise pulled a face at the mere suggestion that he had emotions, but didn't actually argue with her. He watched her quietly for a moment, “ _ You’ve _ forgiven me?” He finally asked. She nodded, watching him carefully. 

“Really with you, Blaise, there wasn't much to forgive. You weren't exactly like Draco when it came to antagonising me and my friends, and I forgave him. Is it really so hard to believe?”

Blaise stared at her for a moment longer, before looking away down the hall. “Yes.” He snapped, some emotion finally showing in his voice, “I’ve done lots of unforgivable things, Granger.”

“ _ Hermione _ ,” She insisted, “Maybe so, and yet I am forgiving you. Just accept it, Blaise.” He stared at her, and then narrowed his eyes, obviously expecting some kind of ulterior motive. She rolled her eyes and pulled the unsuspecting Slytherin into a tight hug. He made a kind of amusing ‘ack’ sound, and stood stiff in her grip for a few moments until she let go.

She laughed at the rather shell shocked look on his face, “Not big on the hugs?” She asked, amused.

He shrugged slightly, “No. Most of my friends aren’t big on affection.” He scanned the still empty hallway for a moment, and then turned to look back down at Hermione, a considering look on his face for a moment. “Would you care to accompany me for some ice cream at Fortescue’s? If you don't mind leaving the ball?”

Hermione turned wide-eyes up at the Slytherin, not expecting in a million years to be asked to go out by  _ Blaise Zabini _ . “I- Ice cream?” She asked, slightly sceptical. 

“Yes. Ice cream, the frozen dessert.”

Hermione huffed, “Yes, thank you, I knew that.” Blaise snorted out a soft laugh, holding up his hands when she sent him a small glare. She paused for a moment, “Okay, yes, that would be lovely actually. It would be nice to get away from here.” Blaise looked slightly surprised that she’d actually agreed. “I’ll just let Harry know I’m leaving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought :D
> 
> 14 chapters and an epilogue to go!


	18. A date

**8th May 1999** **  
** **5:30pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

Hermione had been fretting for the last few days over tonight. After the surprisingly good dance with Blaise at the Victory Ball, and then the delicious ice cream and scintillating conversation on what could only have been a first date by the way they were both acting, she’d come home and found herself lying in bed with a stupid smile on her face.

He’d owled her a couple days later asking her out on a second date, and she had ummed and ahhed for a while until she’d had a run in with a half-naked James in the hallway after she’d come home from work, and he’d come out of the shower. He’d looked so good, and the guilt had risen and choked her over this stupid fancy she had for her best friend’s grieving father. So she’d accepted Blaise’s invitation out of pure desperation, and then had an utter panic about going for a proper planned date. It had been so long!

Now she was standing in front of her wardrobe staring helplessly at her array of clothes, dressed only in knickers and Sirius’ Quidditch jersey. “Fuck!” She shouted emphatically, hoping it might help. It didn't. There was nothing else for it, she’d have to floo Ginny in the Gryffindor common room, and give in to the inevitable fussing her friend would do when she found out Hermione was going on a date. Luckily the Potter Manor fireplace was one of the few hooked up to the Hogwarts floo system thanks to agreement from McGonagall.

She hurried down to the fireplace in the kitchen, after pulling some Muggle leggings on, glad - and kind of surprised - to find it empty at this time on a Saturday. She threw the floo powder into the grate, and waited for a second for the green flames to shoot up, then she stuck her head in and shouted “Gryffindor Common Room”. There was the sickening spin as her head swirled through fireplaces, until she was looking out at her old common room.

There were a few students scattered about the common room, but none of Hermione’s friends. She sighed, and decided she’d have to just shout. So she did, “Ginny!”. The students in the room jumped and turned to stare at her head in the fireplace. Dennis Creevey, who she hadn’t seen before, hurried over to the fireplace.

“You okay, Hermione?” He asked. He still looked more subdued than he ever had before Colin’s death a year ago.

“Oh! Dennis. I’m looking for Ginny, I need her advice really quickly. Is she around anywhere?”

Dennis nodded, “Yeah, she’s in the dorms I think. I’ll shout for her.”

“Thanks Dennis.” Hermione said with a small smile for her fellow muggleborn.

He disappeared around the corner, and she heard him shout for Ginny a moment later. She waited a bit longer before the beautiful redhead hurried around the corner, a wide-eyed look on her face, “‘Mione! You okay?”

“I need your advice, Gin. Do you have time to come through for a bit?” Hermione asked sheepishly.

Ginny looked surprised, but nodded. “Yeah, course, ‘Mione. Get out the way,” She shooed her, “and I’ll come through.”

Hermione pulled back, shifting impatiently - uncharacteristic for her - whilst she waited for Ginny to come through the floo. When the redhead stepped through the floo, Hermione hustled her up the stairs quickly, not even giving her a chance to dust off the floo powder before they were already pushing through the door into Hermione’s room.

“What on Earth’s going on, ‘Mione? You’re not acting like you at all!” Ginny exclaimed once the door was slammed shut behind them. With her hands on her hips, and her red hair all a muss from the floo, she had never looked more like her mother.

“I-” Hermione hesitated, “I’ve got a date.” She finally mumbled, avoiding Ginny’s eyes.

It didn't help though, “What!?” Ginny exclaimed again, jumping up and down a little in her exuberance. “Who with?! Is it a first date?”

Hermione took a moment to regret asking Ginny over before she answered the questions. She watched as Ginny started rummaging through her wardrobe. “Second date, with Blaise Zabini.”

“What!?” Ginny spun from flicking through her clothes, “ _ Second _ date? When did you go on the first date?”

“After the ball,” Ginny’s eyebrows rose, as she started pulling out the drawers in Hermione’s chest of drawers, flicking through her lingerie. “We danced for a while, and had quite an interesting conversation, and then he asked if I wanted to get ice cream afterwards. It was lovely, actually.” She sighed a little, sitting on the bed, a silly smile playing over her lips.

“Oh ho ho! I’ve been waiting for you to finally go on a bloody date, and you didn't even tell me about the first one.” Ginny pouted disappointedly, and then threw Hermione a pretty pair of dark blue lacy knickers, and a matching bra. “Where’s he taking you?”

Hermione scoffed a little, “You were too busy with Pansy Parkinson,” She pointed out, grinning when Ginny blushed a little, “What’s going on there?!” She asked, leaning forward eagerly. “Also, I’m not wearing these on a second date!”

“Oh pish,” Ginny waved her hand, “He’s not going to see them, I’m sure, but they’ll make you feel sexier! And this isn't about me.” Ginny responded, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh it definitely is now,” Hermione said on a laugh. She’d never been much of one for gossip about boys and such, but Ginny was her closest girl friend and she cared about her, “Are you and Parkinson  _ dating _ ?”

Ginny huffed, “If I answer your question, will you agree to wear whatever I choose for you, no complaints? And also tell me where he’s bloody taking you!”

“Fine, yes.” Hermione waved her hand, “I think he said something about a nice restaurant near Diagon Alley. I’m meeting him at the Leaky.”

Ginny nodded decisively, disappearing back into Hermione’s wardrobe in a way that reminded Hermione of the CS Lewis books she’d read long ago. Ginny spoke then, hiding her face, her voice muffled, “I’ve been dating Pansy for a few months.” She finally admitted.

“What!?” Hermione demanded, standing from the bed, “And no one knows?” She asked incredulously.

“No one,” Ginny was still hiding her face. “It’s been kind of tentative, you know?” She finally came back out of the wardrobe, girding her Gryffindor courage, “But she asked me to be her girlfriend after the ball, and I agreed. I'm planning on introducing her to everyone in this house soon.” Ginny smiled a small happy smile, that made Hermione squeal very uncharacteristically. 

“Not your family?”

“Merlin, no. They’d all throw a fit, I want Pansy more committed to me before I subject her to that.” Ginny admitted with a small laugh. “Just imagine, us, dating Slytherins! Ron’s gonna blow his bloody top.”

Hermione grimaced at the mention of her friend, who still hadn’t apologised for his words on his birthday. Ginny frowned at her, she hadn’t told any of her friends beyond the one’s who’d been there - and James and Sirius - what Ron had said about her.

“What’s my blasted brother done now?” Ginny demanded, frowning angrily.

“It’s fine.” Hermione insisted, “It’s in the past. It wasn't that bad.”

“I’ll go ask Harry if you don't tell me.” Hermione spluttered a little, “He knows doesn't he? That’s why he’s been avoiding coming over to the Burrow for the last couple months. Mum thought she’d done something.”

Hermione sighed, “He knows. He was there.” She looked away from Ginny, picking at a loose thread on Sirius’ jersey. “Ron said I was bad at sex. We only had it once you know, he didn't really turn me on or anything.” Hermione was blushing bright red now, and avoiding Ginny’s gaze, “On his birthday he was really drunk, and he said that he’d had to imagine someone else whilst having sex with me, to get off.”

“He said  _ WHAT _ ?!” Ginny’s eyes widened, and she took a menacing step towards the door, ready to go have a right go at her brother.

“Ginny! It’s alright.” Hermione jumped up and grabbed Ginny’s arm.

“No it’s bloody not!” Ginny shouted.

“Fine, no it’s not alright. But I’m over it, mostly. I’d rather you stayed here and helped me choose something to knock Blaise’s socks off.” She grinned a little when Ginny sent her a look. 

“Fine. But I’m gonna give him a bloody piece of my mind next time I see him!” Ginny snapped. Then she spun on her heel and started rummaging through Hermione’s clothes with a new determination.

**8th May 1999** ****  
**7pm** **  
** **Diagon Alley - London**

Hermione apparated into Diagon Alley nervously. After Ginny had calmed down, she’d finally helped Hermione get ready to her standards. She quickly conjured a mirror and checked the apparition hadn’t caused any of her hair to fall out of the pretty plait Ginny had woven it into around the crown of her head. 

She smoothed her hands down over the dress Ginny had transfigured from one of her t-shirts. It was unseasonably warm for early May in England, so the pretty A-line dress wasn’t full length, swirling gently around her knees. She’d balked when Ginny had shown her the ridiculously tall heels she wanted her to wear, insisting she’d really rather not break her neck when a thin heel inevitably got caught in the cobbles that lined Diagon Alley and the surrounding Wizarding shopping and dining district. They’d finally agreed on a compromise of small heeled wedges, with laces that worked their way up her bare calves.

She hurried through the brick entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, not wanting to be late. She took a quick glance around the pub, and finally spotted Blaise leaning against the bar. His dark gaze was already on her and he gave her an appreciative once over that made her blush slightly as she made her way over to him. He looked damn good, wearing a perfectly tailored muggle suit, the jacket and trousers a silvery-grey, over a black shirt he’d left open a couple of buttons at his throat instead of wearing a tie. It was a damn good look on him.

He stepped closer, taking one of her hands and kissing the back of it like a proper gentleman from some muggle romance novel. “You look stunning, Hermione.” He praised, letting his eyes drag up her bare legs, and curves accentuated by the beautiful pale blue dress that contrasted amazingly with her dark skin - she’d been amazed at how good Ginny had made her look when she’d seen herself in the mirror.

“Thank you, Blaise. You look amazing,” She dragged her eyes up to his from where they’d gotten stuck on the sliver of tempting skin left bare at his throat. He smirked slightly at her, obviously having caught her look. He didn't comment on it though, just held his arm out to her graciously.

“Shall we?” She hooked her arm through his with a smile, surprised when he led her out the door onto Charing Cross road. She looked up at him, shocked he wasn’t leading her to some stupidly fancy Wizarding restaurant she’d never heard of. He chuckled at her shock, but didn't say anything.

“We’re going somewhere Muggle?” She asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence as he led her along Charing Cross road towards Shaftesbury Avenue and into Soho.

He smiled down at her, “We are. There’s a lovely new French restaurant opened up on Romilly Street.” He gestured ahead of them. 

She couldn't hide her further surprise that he obviously frequented Muggle London enough to know the good restaurants, and whether they were new or not. He sent her a quiet amused look. “Have you been here before?” She asked, as they turned off Shaftesbury Avenue onto a quieter street. She was quite glad to see the back of the street she’d apparated her, Harry, and Ron to in a panic nearly two years ago.

“Yes. Believe it or not, Draco introduced me to it.” Hermione almost didn't believe it, having a hard time reconciling these Pureblood Slytherins and visiting Muggle restaurants in London. He just chuckled quietly down at her, holding open the door to the restaurant gallantly when they reached it. “After you.”

She smiled up at him, blushing lightly at the intense look he was giving her. He placed his large hand gently on her lower back as they entered the restaurant, the heat searing through her light dress, and causing her mouth to dry up a little.

They stepped up to the maître d’ stand. The man sent them a cool smile, and looked to Blaise, “Do you have a reservation, sir?” The man asked, his accent stupidly plummy in a clearly put on way. Hermione barely resisted rolling her eyes. This restaurant was pretty much stuck years in the past then. As the woman she was ignored, and the man was deferred to. Of course. It also didn't help that neither of them were white. The Wizarding world was luckily beyond such worries about skin colour - too stuck on blood status to pay attention really - but the Muggle world was still years behind. Especially in a fancy restaurant like this one.

“Blaise Zabini.” Blaise said, just as cool as the man. His aristocratic accent was natural, and as much as she loathed the class system England still adhered to - no matter how much they insisted they didn't -, it was quite amusing to watch the way the man’s attitude automatically changed upon hearing Blaise speak.

“Right this way, sir.” The man delicately took two menus from the stand next to him, then gestured for them to follow him as they walked deeper into the restaurant.

“Bloody pompous arsehole.” Blaise muttered under his breath, “If he knew who you were, he wouldn't be bowing and scraping to me.”

Hermione stifled her laugh, but frowned slightly too, “I don’t want anyone bowing and scraping to me.” She insisted when Blaise looked down at her.

“Of course not,” Blaise said with a small smile, “That’s why I’m infinitely glad the Order won, instead of the Dark Lord, there’s lots less bowing and scraping to you lot.” He chuckled a little at Hermione’s look, pulling out her chair graciously for her when they reached their table, sending a glare at the maître d’ when he tried to do it. “My lady.” Blaise said with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and took the seat with a murmured thanks.

“Your menus, sir.” The maître d’ handed them both to Blaise who took them with a small eye roll of his own, and immediately passed one to Hermione. The maître d’ sniffed, obviously of the opinion that men should be in charge of ordering. Hermione suppressed the sudden urge to hex the horrible man. “Our sommelier will be along shortly to take your wine order, sir.” The horrible man left with a final nod in Blaise’s direction.

Hermione snorted, flipping open her menu, “What a horrid man.” She muttered under her breath.

Blaise laughed slightly, making her glance up from her menu with a blush, “I apologise, he wasn’t nearly so awful last time I came. But that’s probably because I was with all men, and they were all white.” He rolled his eyes again. He opened his menu, and a comfortable silence fell between them for a moment whilst they both perused their menus. Hermione’s mouth watered at some of the delicious food on offer. Blaise picked up the wine menu after a few minutes, opening it to peruse too. “Would you like to share a bottle?” He asked, looking up at Hermione with a devastatingly beautiful smile.

“Sure.” She couldn't help smiling back, looking down at the wine menu slightly surprised when Blaise handed it over to her. 

“I’m sure you know more about muggle wine than I do.” He said with a smile. She didn't think she’d ever seen any Slytherin smile so much in a small time period. It made her heart flutter a little. She’d never really been on a proper date before. Her and Ron had kind of just started going out without ever really going on any proper dates. So far this was lovely.

The sommelier came over before any more conversation could be had, a warm smile on his face as he surveyed them both, “What can I get for you?” He asked politely, with much less bias than the maître d’, looking between them both, his eyes lingering a little on Hermione.

Hermione glanced back down at the menu, giving it a cursory glance over until a wine she’d had before, and enjoyed, caught her attention. “Could we have the 1995 Cabernet Sauvignon, please?” She handed the wine menu over to the sommelier with a smile.

“Of course, madam.” The sommelier sent her a surprisingly flirtatious smile that caused Blaise to frown and clear his throat pointedly. The sommelier jolted, and sent a much cooler look towards Blaise, “The waitress will be over in a moment to take your orders.”

After the sommelier had left, Blaise looked at Hermione and rolled his eyes, “The staff are acting abysmally,” He commented, opening his menu to take a proper look over the food options again. Hermione sighed, he wasn't wrong. “I’d like to make some comment about muggles, but witches and wizards would probably be acting worse right now,” He gestured at her, letting out a small laugh at her frown, “With one of the ‘Golden Trio’ in their midst.”

“Unfortunately, they would be yes.”

After they’d placed their food orders, the rest of dinner passed without further incident, apart from the waitress trying to flirt with Blaise, and being ignored. Hermione had flushed when he’d commented that Hermione was much too beautiful for some stupid fliratious waitress to claim his attention tonight. It was quite late by the time they’d finished the delicious food, and especially delectable desserts - a tarte au citron, and crème brȗlée that they shared; an action more intimate than Hermione had been expecting, causing a further blush to rise up her chest and onto her cheeks. 

“Allow me to escort you home?” Blaise asked as they exited the restaurant, taking her hand and wrapping it through his elbow delicately. She cleared her throat slightly, surprised by the emotions and feelings he was stirring in her after only two dates.

“Of course.” She demurred, smiling up at him. She turned and started leading him back towards a more deserted alleyway, “There’s an apparition point back here.” She said when he sent her a questioning look. He nodded and followed her ‘round the corner. She stepped closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist, and blushing when he looked down at her rather heatedly. “I’ll need to side-along you.” She hurried to explain.

He chuckled, but wrapped an arm around her waist on the other side with no further words exchanged. She forced herself to focus, trying to ignore the heat of his long arm wrapped around her and his chest pressed close to hers. She spun on her heel, taking him with her into the horrible squeeze of apparition, made worse by doing it side-along. They appeared in the twilight of May on the lane outside Potter Manor, though it wasn’t visible to Blaise due to the wards.

He took a step back from her, “Are we here?” He asked after a quick glance around, obviously only seeing an empty field on the side of the road that didn't have a hedge running along it.

She chuckled slightly, glancing up at him, “Yes. There’s wards around the Manor.”

Blaise sent her a surprised look, “Manor?” He asked, obviously not having really thought much about where she would be living, except that he wasn't expecting it to be a Manor.

“Yes, I live in Potter Manor.” She grinned at his slightly disgruntled look, though he was good enough to not say anything of the slight jealousy he was clearly feeling. She was just surprised he’d even allowed her to see any emotion in the first place.

“I see.” He said, looking back down at her. His beautiful dark eyes scanned her face for a moment, obviously looking for something. He stepped closer to her again, raising a hand to cup her cheek, “May I kiss you?” He asked, his voice a little hoarse.

She searched his eyes for a moment, and then nodded, “Yes.” She managed to get out before his plush lips were pressed gently against hers. It was a chaste kiss in the grand scheme of things, but it still set butterflies fluttering in her chest. He stayed pressed against her for a moment longer, brushing his lips gently across hers, but not deepening the kiss any further. When he pulled back his eyes were darker and intense as he looked at her.

She licked her lips, and took a deep breath. She tried to ignore how his eyes dropped to her lips, and then further to her chest when she did so.

“Can I take you out again, Hermione?” He asked, his voice deeper than usual.

She nodded eagerly, not bothering to curb her enthusiasm, “I’d like that, yes.” He smiled a small smile at her that was practically a Slytherin grin, and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips again.

“Good. I’ll see you soon, then.” He pulled back, and brushed a stray frizzy curl that had fallen out of her plait away from her face, “Expect my owl.” He stepped back, and waited and watched whilst she stepped through the wards for Potter Manor and disappeared from his sight. She grinned when she watched him press his fingers briefly to his lips, before spinning on his heel and disapparating with a small pop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me again! The characters are doing what they want! I was planning on fitting another scene into this one, but the date with Blaise went on quite a bit longer than planned - oops haha. Promise there’ll be some more James in the next chapter :D


	19. Revenge is a dish best served furious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James finds out some of Harry's life, and he isn't happy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter!!! So happy with how it turned out :) Hope you guys love it too!

**18th May 1999** **  
** **9pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

James found Hermione the only one in the otherwise empty kitchen when he stepped through the floo from visiting the Leaky for drinks and dinner with Remus before said man had to return to Hogwarts for curfew and his rounds. She was sitting at the kitchen table with a large mug of what smelled like hot chocolate cradled between her hands. The steam rising from the cup suggested she’d just made it.

She looked up with a smile as he stepped through, “Hi, James. Nice time with Remus?” She gestured at the stove where there was a pan sitting on one of the rings, “There’s some extra hot chocolate in there if you want. It should still be hot, I just made it.”

James grinned, “That’d be great.” He joined her at the table, sitting down opposite her with his full mug once he’d poured himself some hot chocolate too. “How’ve you been, Hermione? Feel like I’ve not seen you for a while.”

She smiled happily at him, her face lighting up with it, “I’m good thanks, James. Are you?” She took a sip of her hot chocolate, sighing as the warmth spread through her.

“Yeah.” He leant forwards, resting his elbows on the table, “I wanted to ask you something. It’s probably a bit depressing, but I don’t feel like I should bring it up with Harry yet.”

Hermione frowned, but nodded, “You can ask me anything.”

“Is Harry around?” 

“No.” She shook her head, “He’s gone out with Dean and Seamus.”

“How were the Dursleys?” Her eyes widened, and she stared at him in shock. He gestured vaguely, “You know - how did they treat him? When I met them at their wedding, they were utterly awful people. They called Lily a freak, even her sister, and they said people with magic were evil.”

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, and avoided eye contact with James for a brief moment. “I don't know everything that happened with them, especially from before Harry came to Hogwarts. But I know some.” She took a quick gulp of her hot chocolate, her wince suggesting it was still too hot. “They kept him in a  _ cupboard  _ under the stairs until Hagrid brought him his Hogwarts letter.”

James’ hands tightened around his cup, and he snapped, “ _ What?! _ ”

“Let me get it all out,” She held up a hand, and took a brief moment to think, “Before second year he wasn't responding to any of our letters so Ron and the Weasley twins took their family’s flying car to collect him, and they had bars over his windows. I sent him a large cake for his 14th birthday because I knew they weren’t feeding him enough. Every year they insisted he kept Hedwig locked in her cage, and locked away his trunk and everything under the stairs.” She swallowed tightly, and James watched the anger building in her. James felt his fury reaching boiling point, but he didn't say anything to interrupt. “He never wanted to go back there, but even when Sirius was around, Dumbledore wouldn't allow Harry to just go straight to stay with him. He always sent Harry back to the Dursleys.” She scowled, “I think Dudley, his cousin, got better before Harry left for good, but his aunt and uncle were still terrible.”

“Is that-” James swallowed, choking back the shouting and cursing he really wanted to do. “Is that everything?”

Hermione shook her head mutely, and avoided eye contact with him. Tears were standing stark in her eyes, “They used to send him old socks or 50p for his Christmas presents. It was clear when we gave him presents in first year that he’d never had proper presents before.” She was crying now, tears shimmering in her eyes, and falling down her cheeks, “He was so  _ skinny _ you know. And at first we thought it was just because he was a small boy, but after being at Hogwarts for a while he’d put on the weight he should have had, and then over summer it would all go again. He never had his own clothes either. He wore Dudley’s hand-me-downs for years. They were about ten sizes too big for him because Dudley was so large.”

“You mean.” James stood and started pacing, anything to try to work off some of this anger, “You mean they had a fat fucking son, when they were  _ starving _ mine?!”

“Yes.” Hermione whispered, sobbing now.

“Did they… Did they  _ hit  _ him?” James snarled, the words clipped.

“No. No they didn't hit him.”

James growled, and summoned a bottle of firewhiskey. He poured a generous helping into his hot chocolate and then offered the bottle silently to Hermione. She took it gratefully and poured herself a generous helping too. “How’d he get those scars on his hand then?” He snapped. He was trying desperately not to take his anger out on the wonderful woman sitting across from him, when she had done everything she could to look after his son.

A low growl came from the door, and they both whirled to see Sirius there. He’d entered unbeknownst to the two of them. He stalked over and grabbed the firewhiskey bottle from James’ hand, downing a large gulp. “Fucking Dolores Umbridge that’s how.”

“Who?”

“She was who the ministry sent to be our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in fifth year,” Hermione explained when she saw Sirius was too angry to respond. He dropped into the seat beside her and slung his arm around the back of hers, lightly touching her shoulder with his fingers in silent support.

“Why the fuck does he have scars on his hand from a teacher?!” James demanded, taking his seat again.

“She  _ tortured _ him. I couldn't fucking do anything to protect my boy from her.” Sirius snarled. “She used a blood quill in his detentions. Which he got for a bullshit bloody reason.”

“WHAT?!” James picked his cup up and threw it across the room. It shattered against the far wall, splashing hot chocolate and firewhiskey everywhere. Hermione let out a small shriek, and James winced, “Sorry, ‘Mione.”

She shook her head, “No, it’s fine.” She got up from her seat, and quickly and efficiently cleaned up the mess. Sirius squeezed her hand as she stood, her back to both of them to hide her face. “It says  _ I must not tell lies _ on his hand now, she made him write it so much.” Her voice was still thick with tears, and James could see her shoulders shaking slightly.

“What happened to her?” Sirius asked, a snarl in his voice, still gripping Hermione’s hand.

“Oh.” Hermione turned around, brushing the tears away angrily. “I’d forgotten you weren't here. She got locked away in Azkaban for her part in helping the Ministry with the Muggleborn registry. Unfortunately she wasn’t marked so they couldn't get her for anything else.” Sirius scowled, but seemed happy with the outcome at least. James sighed angrily, pouring himself more firewhiskey, this time undiluted by hot chocolate.

“I want to go see them.” He finally said, his voice still angry despite its steadiness.

“The Dursleys?” Hermione asked, surprised. She scrutinised James.

James nodded, “Yes. I want to have a  _ talk _ with them about their treatment of Harry.”

Hermione frowned a little at the implications, but James could see a glint in her eyes that intrigued him. She sighed, but nodded firmly. She turned to leave the room, “I’ll get you their address.”

The two older men watched her turn on her heel and leave the room. “Bloody scary, that woman.” Sirius muttered into his firewhiskey. James nodded, though he was certainly more appreciative of it than Sirius. “She’s vicious when she wants to be. Did Harry tell you about Rita Skeeter? Or Marietta Edgecombe?” James shook his head, Sirius chuckled a little. “Ask him to.”

James let out a short laugh, “Will do.” He sobered after a second, remembering why he’d been angry in the first place. 

“I’m coming with you.” Sirius said after a moment of silence.

“Of course.” James nodded, “Moony too, I expect.”

“I think he met them briefly after I fell into the veil. He, Mad-eye, and Arthur threatened them. Fuck load of good it did, clearly.”

James hummed noncommittally. “I’ll go owl Moony now. We can go at the weekend.” Sirius just nodded, and James stalked out the room on the hunt for his owl.

**23rd May 1999** **  
** **1pm** **  
** **No. 4 Privet Drive - Little Whinging, Surrey** **  
** **Residence of Petunia and Vernon Dursley**

The quiet, neat road of Privet Drive was disturbed briefly on the quiet Sunday afternoon in late May. Three quiet pops echoed around the street, and then the silence fell again. The only change was the three men now standing at one end of the street. The three wizards, wearing Muggle clothing to blend in, stepped forward and made their way down the row of identical semi-detached houses until they reached No.4. 

“This is it?” James asked, looking up at the house with disdain. Sirius frowned, unsure, as he’d never actually been to the house. They both looked to Remus, who nodded. They had aged James up before leaving Potter Manor so he looked the age he would’ve been had he lived. He’d looked in the mirror and muttered ‘creepy’ when he’d seen himself.

James hesitated now, not sure he’d be able to control himself around the people who had abused his only son. “You okay, mate?” Remus asked, putting a staying hand on James’ shoulder.

James nodded mutely for a moment, before finding his words, “I will be after this, yeah. Thanks, Moony.”

“Right.” Sirius stepped forward, pushing the gate open forcefully, and just grinning with an “Oops” when it flew off the hinges and landed in the flowerbed. “James you go to the back, me and Moony will threaten them, and then you can shock the shit out of them by appearing.” The three Marauders grinned evilly, stepping through the now non-existent gate, and up to the front door.

Remus raised his hand and knocked forcefully on the door, his lips twitching in a smirk when there was loud swearing inside, followed by thumping footsteps coming towards the door.

The front door was yanked open from inside and in front of them stood Vernon Dursley, in all his debatable glory. He was a big, beefy man with a large face that disappeared into no neck. His flat hair was greying, and when he looked up at the two (visible) men on his doorstep, his thick moustache bristled, and his eyes narrowed into mean little slits. James’ lip curled as he looked at his brother-in-law, the man who should never have been given his precious son to raise.

“Now see here, we were just in the middle of our Sunday roast. Who are you, knocking on our door?” Dursley demanded, narrowing his eyes even further at Remus and Sirius, both of whom towered over him, something that visibly annoyed him. 

Sirius grinned a threatening grin that reminded James eerily of his insane cousin, “I thought you might’ve remembered Dursley,” Sirius drawled, looking down his aristocratic nose at the man, “But you must be even stupider than I thought.”

Dursley bristled, and opened his mouth, no doubt to berate Sirius or something. But Remus’ threatening growl cut him off, “He’s definitely too stupid to remember, Padfoot.” Remus shot Sirius a conspiring look, and then scowled down at Dursley who was slowly turning purple in rage, “Now Dursley, you’ve met me before, I came to pick up Harry a few years ago in August.”

If possible Dursley turned even more purple, and a large vein in his temple had started to throb. “Now see here!” He blustered, “That boy said we’d never have to deal with your lot again.” 

Remus and Sirius had to both stretch their arms out behind them to keep James at bay. “Yes, well. He doesn't know we’re here.” Remus said, his voice strained. 

Before Remus could say any more, Dursley was pointing a thick finger at Sirius. The three Marauders felt rather gratified to see it was shaking slightly, “You’re that murderer who was on the news years ago! Potter’s godfather. He said you were dead. That horrible headmaster of his brought over your will.” Dursley looked even more furious if possible.

Sirius grinned ferally at Dursley, and stepped closer. He didn't bother denying the murderer accusation, “They brought me back from the dead.”

“Now are you going to let us in, or do we have to force our way in, Dursley?” Remus snapped, before Dursley could do more than gape in horror at Sirius.

Dursley stammered in rage, but stepped back hastily when Remus and Sirius both raised their wands and stepped closer. The two wizards stepped into the house, gesturing for Dursely to lead them through to the living room, hiding Dursley’s view of James purposefully. 

James stepped in after the three men, waving his hand at the door to close and lock it. Then after a moment of consideration he cast a complex silencing spell too. “Vernon? Who was it?” Came a piercing voice from deeper in the house that could only be Lily’s older sister Petunia.

“Some of those wretched people from Potter’s world.” Dursley snapped, acquiescing when Remus shoved him to sit on the sofa in the living room.

Sirius walked further into the house, and James heard him growl, “You’re coming this way.” Petunia was ushered through a long moment later, her eyes wide and frightened. She didn't even notice James standing by the front door still.

Sirius and James exchanged looks of grim satisfaction, and then Sirius stepped through into the living room, whilst James hovered in the doorway, hidden from the Dursley’s view as they were both sitting stock still on the sofa facing away from him.

“Now.” Remus said, almost pleasantly, “We’re here to have a little chat about your treatment of Harry.”

“We did nothing that boy didn't deserve!” Vernon shouted, his face turning redder now.

“Well that’s bullshit.” Sirius growled. “You starved my godson, you treated him like a slave - making him cook, and clean, and garden for you - and you had him sleep in a fucking CUPBOARD UNDER THE STAIRS!” Sirius was shouting by the end, his rage making his grey eyes flash menacingly.

Vernon opened his mouth, presumably to say something, but Remus waved his wand and the older man was left clutching at this throat unable to make noise. Petunia screamed, staring at her husband in horror. “Oh shut up.” Remus snapped, his eyes turning the gold that meant his wolf was near the surface, “He’s just silenced, and we’ll do the same to you unless you  _ be quiet _ .”

“There’s someone who’d like to meet you,” Sirius said with another feral grin. “Prongs.” Sirius gestured grandly. James was scowling as he stepped around the sofa and came to stand between his best friends in front of the people who’d ‘raised’ his son.

He grinned at them with malice, “Hello Petunia, Vernon. So good to see you again.” Petunia screeched again, and shrank back from James.

“You died!” She exclaimed, her mouth gaping open.

“Yes. And yet. Here I am.” James snarled, satisfied when both the Dursleys cowered back into the sofa away from him. “I have quite a few bones to pick with you about your treatment of Harry.”

“We treated him fine.” Petunia said in a small voice that clearly indicated she didn't even believe what she was saying. 

“You most certainly did not.” James snapped. “Harry won’t even talk about what you did, it’s so horrible.”

Vernon was mouthing something furiously, so James gestured at Remus, “Moony, take the silencing charm off. I want to hear what shit he has to say.” Remus waved his wand, and did so.

“-have no proof!”

“Sorry, start at the beginning Dursley, we missed what you said.” James grinned maliciously when Vernon glared at him.

“You can’t do anything against us, you have no proof!” Vernon declared triumphantly.

James blinked, and looked at his two friends. They all laughed after a moment of silence, “I’m sorry Dursely, what did you think our plan was? To turn you over to the Muggle police?” James snorted derisively, “We don't have proof for them correct. We do have proof for the Aurors though. All of Harry’s memories. And yours too, I'm sure. Do you think we could make it painful for them when we extract their memories?” He asked his friends casually.

Both Dursleys stared at him in mute horror.

“However,” Sirius started, stepping forward next to James and looking every inch the prison-escapee he was, “We don't plan on turning you over to them either.” Vernon made to get up from the sofa in his anger, but James just waved his wand and with a silent sticking charm made sure neither of the Dursleys could move from their seats.

“His friends told us everything you did to him. By the time we’re done with you, you’ll wish you were dead.” James snarled, and then with no warning there was a gigantic stag standing in the middle of the Dursley’s living room. Sirius grinned, and took the cue, transforming down into Padfoot, the giant bear-like dog jumping forward and snarling in their faces. Petunia shrieked, and fainted, Vernon shouted loudly and tried to get up out of his seat to scramble away - to no avail. 

Remus stood back, and twirled his wand in his hand menacingly, rennervating Petunia so she wouldn’t miss anything. “You’re lucky it’s not the full moon and I can’t turn into a werewolf at will.” He commented mildly, gleefully taking in the terrified looks on their faces. 

When they left the Dursleys a few hours later, both of them gibbering messes of fear on their living room sofa, James smirked grimly as they walked to the end of the street in the dark, turning to look at his friends. “Same time next month?” He asked casually. Apparating back to Potter Manor at their nods of agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	20. Live your life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mood of this chapter is all over the place haha! Sorry :P 
> 
> The story earns it’s explicit rating in this chapter - just a warning!

**9th June 1999** **  
** **10am**   
**Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

James was sat at the kitchen table cradling a mug of long cold coffee when Tonks entered the room, Teddy balanced happily on her hip. “You okay, James?” She asked, making her way over to the stove to start making some breakfast for herself and Teddy.

James made a non-committal noise, distracted. Tonks approached him, and put her hand gently on his shoulder, “James?”

James jumped, and looked up in surprise at Tonks, not having noticed she was there before. “Tonks. Hi. Sorry. I was-” He trailed off, not really knowing where to go with that sentence.

Tonks’ shrewd eyes watched him for a moment, before she smiled, and plopped Teddy into his arms, “Watch Teddy for a moment, yeah?” She walked away to finish off breakfast before he could protest.

James looked down at the little boy in his arms, and blinked away tears when he grinned up at him and his hair shifted to the same messy black that both James and Harry’s was. “God, he looks like Harry did.” He whispered, gently running his fingers through Teddy’s hair with a grin.

“He’s a little tyke, but we love him anyway.” Tonks chuckled as she sat down across from James, laughing when Teddy just contentedly settled into James’ arms further.

“Well, who wouldn't.” James chuckled, bouncing the small boy gently in his arms until he squealed in delight. He looked back down at the boy when Tonks’ searching eyes met his.

“What’s up?” She asked, ignoring his attempts to not have this conversation.

James sighed, and carried on bouncing Teddy, trying to avoid the boy grabbing his glasses straight off his face - which he was desperately trying to do. “I think I might be getting over Lily’s death quicker than I want to.” He confessed, tears springing to his eyes. He took a sip of his coffee, and grimaced when the cold liquid hit him. “I feel like I’m betraying her! It’s not even been a year, you know? How can I-” He cut himself off, voice thick with tears. He pushed back from the table and stood, Teddy still in his arms. He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, his blood rushing in his ears, bouncing Teddy a little too fast in his arms to be soothing.

He heard Tonks sigh, and then suddenly she was standing in front of him, her hair a much paler pink than the vibrant colour it had been when she’d stepped in the room earlier. She pulled him (and Teddy by extension) into a big hug, pulling his head down until it rested on her shoulder, and then running her fingers gently through his hair. “Stop blaming yourself. Stop feeling for something you can’t control.”

“But-”

“No. James, healing isn't linear, and grief isn’t one-size fits all.”

“Huh?”

“Muggle expression.” Tonks said with a small chuckle. “The point is, that whatever you’re feeling is what you're supposed to be feeling. It’s what’s right for you. Sometimes you’ll feel the pain like it happened yesterday, and she’ll feel like a giant hole that’s missing from your life. Other times you may forget about her for a few days, and the pain from missing her will be ignorable. But, whatever you do feel, you’re not wrong for feeling it.”

“It’s not even been a year though! How can I not miss her desperately every day?! It’s not right.” 

Tonks pulled away for a moment, and took Teddy from James’ arms, settling him in his high chair with a couple of toys to occupy him. Then she hugged James again, pulling him in even tighter comfortingly. “No, it’s not right that she was gone so early. But, that’s not your fault. You’re still alive James, don't feel guilty for living.” James couldn't hold back anymore, and started sobbing into Tonks’ shoulder, her words a comforting balm, and razor sharp needles all mixed up together.

“I'm sorry, I’m so sorry.” He mumbled into her shoulder.

“You don’t need to be sorry, James.” Tonks soothed, “You need to live. That's what she would want. I can tell you that without having ever even met her.”

James pulled away with a sniffle, and a short-lived laugh, “She would’ve loved you.” He muttered.

“I’m sure I’d’ve loved her too, considering I love her son and father.” Tonks sent him a look. “You should talk to mum.” She said after a long moment of silence.

“Andromeda?” James asked, surprised. He took his seat at the table again, and cast a heating charm on his coffee so it would be drinkable again. 

Tonks sighed a little, “Yeah. Dad died last year before the war ended. She might be able to help you a little.” Tonks took a sip of her tea, and sent him a look, “I’m taking Teddy over there after breakfast whilst I go to work. Want to come?”

“You think she’d be okay with that?”

Tonks nodded, “Definitely. She probably needs someone to talk to about it too.” Tonks sniffled a little, and wiped away the tears dripping from her eyes, “I miss dad, so much. But he wasn't my husband, I’ll always feel it differently than she does. ‘Cissa helps her a little, but Lucius is in Azkaban, not dead, so it’s not really the same.” She stood from the table, sending her dishes to the sink to wash themselves up, and lifted Teddy out of his highchair. “Just come along now, and see if it helps.”

James sighed a little, and nodded, “Okay.” He followed Tonks through the floo to see Andromeda.

**18th June 1999** **  
** **6:45pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

Hermione had spent the last two hours since she’d left training early preparing for her date tonight. Tonks had helped with a cheeky grin, rifling through Hermione’s wardrobe in search of appropriate robes whilst Hermione washed, waxed, and moisturised everywhere. She’d been officially dating Blaise for nearly a month now, and could quite confidently say he was her boyfriend. 

She’d been nervously putting off doing anything more than making out and the occasional grope with him, Ron’s words from months ago still plaguing her. But during a drunken girls night the weekend before Tonks had convinced her to relax and ignore Ron’s immature words, to let herself just do what she truly wanted. So when Blaise had asked if she’d like to go out Friday night, she had agreed eagerly. He was taking her to some fancy restaurant on Diagon Alley, hence the need for help from Tonks to find the appropriate robes. 

Though Hermione wasn’t necessarily expecting anything to definitely happen tonight, she didn't want to take the chance, so once she was clean and silky-smooth, she rifled through her drawers looking for just the right lingerie for the night - just in case. 

Tonks appeared suddenly, looking over her shoulder into the draw. “Wear the Gryffindor red ones,” She said with a cheeky eyebrow waggle, and grin, “They’ll bring out his competitive Slytherin.” Hermione blushed a little, but obliged, pulling the lacy thong on under her towel, and wiggling to keep her boobs covered whilst she put on the matching bra, though the modesty was probably pointless considering how see-through both items were once she dropped the towel.

“God, I feel so stupid being this nervous.” She muttered, taking the beautiful dark plum coloured robes from Tonks with a quick grin. “I’ve had sex before, for Merlin’s sake.”

“Yes, but maybe not with someone you’ve actually fancied?” Tonks suggested, grinning when Hermione pulled the robes on and adjusted them, “You look brill, ‘Mione. He’s not gonna know what’s hit him.”

“Thanks, Tonks.” Hermione shuffled a little, still not used to wearing full wizarding robes. There was a ping on the wards at that moment that both of them felt. “Oh, crap, he’s here.”

Tonks laughed, “Have a great time.” She ushered Hermione out of her room and down the stairs, waving gleefully at the nervous witch from the front door as Hermione hurried down the drive.

“Where’s Hermione off to?” Her husband asked from beside her, both of them watching her disappear out the wards. 

“Date with Blaise.” Tonks said with a grin. “We’ve got the house to ourselves for a couple of hours.” She spun to her husband and waggled her eyebrows playfully. The werewolf growled a little, and picked up his wife, eagerly jogging up the stairs to their room.

**7:15pm** **  
** **Diagon Alley - London**

Blaise apparated them into the quiet of Diagon Alley, offering his arm to her gallantly. She linked her arm through his and smiled happily as he led them into one of the small alleys off the main shopping street of Wizarding London. “Where are we going?” She asked.

“Now now, Miss Granger. I’ve got to keep some surprises.” He smirked down at her, and she rolled her eyes a little. “If I haven’t said yet, by the way, you look amazing.”

She flushed a little, but sent a little sly smile up at him, “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Blaise was saved from having to answer through his sudden aroused spluttering - so uncharacteristic of the usually unflappable Slytherin - by the fact they’d reached the restaurant.

“After you, Hermione.” He said, holding his hand graciously to let her go in front. The way his eyes raked over her figure was much less polite than his mannerisms. Not that Hermione minded.

The maître d’ showed them to their table with, thankfully, not too much gushing over having one-third of the ‘Golden Trio’ in the restaurant. They both murmured thank you as the man left them at the table. 

Hermione sighed a little, “This is why I usually avoid going out to Wizarding establishments.” She admitted.

Blaise nodded, “I don’t blame you. I apologise if it’s made you uncomfortable.” He looked a little uneasy at the idea, avoiding Hermione’s eyes.

“Oh! No,” Hermione reached across the table and took his hand in hers, uncaring of who saw them, “Don’t apologise. It’s not  _ your _ fault, after all.”

Dinner passed pleasantly, with quite a bit of flirting, and blushing on Hermione’s part. They shared dessert, Blaise intimately feeding her small bites of the delicious pavlova, his eyes locked on hers, dark with unhidden lust.

After Blaise had paid for the meal, despite Hermione’s vehement protests, they left the restaurant out into the near full dark of late June in London. He offered her his arm again, and she took it with a small smile, blushing prettily when he sent her a heated look.

They wandered back into the artificially lit Diagon Alley, and as they reached the apparition point, Blaise reached out with a hand, and brushed some of Hermione’s unruly curls back behind her ear. He leant down and pressed a kiss to her lips, deepening it to something passionate almost immediately when she responded eagerly to him. When he pulled away Hermione found herself with her back up against a rough brick wall, panting slightly, and unsure how she’d gotten there.

“It might be a little forward of me,” Blaise murmured, still so close Hermione was having a little trouble focusing completely, “But would you like to come back to mine for a night cap?”

Hermione swallowed, looking up into Blaise’s beautiful dark brown eyes, but nodded firmly, “Yes. I’d like that.” The smile he bestowed upon her was blazing and completely uncharacteristic. 

He wrapped his arm ‘round her waist and pulled her tight to his hard body, smirking a little at her squeak of surprise. “Hold on.” He whispered, and then turned them into the tight and horrible squeeze of side-along apparition. 

They appeared outside of a lavish looking block of flats in south london. Hermione looked up at them in surprise, she’d been expecting Blaise to live in some huge country mansion like the Black and Potter Manors. He chuckled at her expression, “This block of flats is magical.” He explained, leading her through the doors into the lobby.

“The whole block?” She opened her mouth to ask all the questions whirling in her mind about how it worked, but he gently covered her lips with his fingers.

“I’ll explain it all to you later.” He smiled down at her, letting some fondness shine through his eyes. “Come on, let’s go up.” He led her over to the lifts at the back of the spacious lobby, getting in and holding his wand to a small sensor set into the wall. With nothing further the lift lurched and shot up. The ride was short, barely even a minute long, the lift coming to an abrupt stop and the doors sliding open.

“Blimey.” Hermione muttered, “Even expensive magical lifts are awful then?” She asked with a little laugh as Blaise led her straight out into a beautifully appointed flat. “Oh.” She whispered in awe, looking around the large open-plan kitchen, dining room, and living room in front of her.

“Each flat has its own floor, hence the wand identification.” Blaise explained. He stepped past her further into the flat, the lift shutting behind them, and making no sound as it disappeared back to the ground floor. “Can I get you something to drink? Champagne, tea, coffee, wine, something fizzy and non alcoholic?” Hermione blinked, following Blaise into the kitchen, and leaning back against the counter.

“Wine would be lovely thank you,” She said quietly, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed. Blaise poured her a small glass of white wine, and brought it over to her, stopping right in front of her. He put the wine on the counter behind her, and cupped her face gently in his free hand.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, leaning down so their eyes met on the same level.

“Yes.” She nodded, making eye contact, and swallowing a little at the caring look in Blaise’s eyes. “I’m good. I- Just a little nervous. It’s nothing you did. I promise.”

Blaise nodded, and leant down to give her a soft, unhurried kiss, not deepening it any further than just the press of their lips together. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she stood on her tiptoes to press closer. She whimpered a little when Blaise pulled away and, not letting herself overthink it, wound her fingers in his short dark hair, and pulled him back down.

They kissed more thoroughly now, his tongue slipping between his lips and tangling with hers. She groaned into his mouth when the hand he’d had on the counter beside her slid to her hip and pulled her even closer. They lost time standing in his kitchen passionately kissing. By the time Blaise pulled away reluctantly, her hair was in disarray, and she was sitting on the counter, Blaise standing between her thighs. The glass of white wine had been knocked over in their passion. Blaise stepped away from Hermione a little, and she jumped off the counter with a curse when she realised it had seeped through both layers of her robes.

“Oh fuck!” She exclaimed.

Blaise pressed his lips together, obviously stopping himself from laughing. “We can wash your robes, love.” He soothed when he’d managed to get himself under control. “This way.”

“Urgh, I know, but still...” She followed him through to his little utility room and he left her in there whilst he went in search of something for her to wear. She looked down at her robes calculatingly, and smirked a little. She stripped out of the outer and inner layers of robes, carefully putting them on top of the - surprisingly - Muggle washing machine Blaise had.

When Blaise came back, carrying what looked like his Quidditch jersey (she was planning on stealing that and adding it to her growing collection), he stumbled to find her sitting on top of his washing machine, clad only in her bright red lingerie and the black ‘fuck-me’ heels Tonks had insisted she wear. She smirked as his eyes scanned over her, and felt gratified when he couldn't seem to find any words.

“Hermione?” He finally croaked. He was leaning on the doorframe as though he needed the support, and Hermione could see the bulge growing in his Muggle trousers - revealed by his robes which were now hanging open. She thought she might’ve been the one to yank them open when they’d been making out in the kitchen earlier.

“Take me to bed?” She whispered before she lost her Gryffindor courage. She hopped off the washing machine more gracefully than she thought she’d ever managed anything in her life before, and sauntered over to stand in front of Blaise. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, and she pushed closer until her body was lined up all along his.

Blaise nodded, tossing the t-shirt he was still holding to the side. He pulled her closer, and wrapped one arm beneath her arse, pulling her up until she had to wrap her legs around his waist. He didn't seem to even notice her weight as he carried her through to the bedroom. He moaned as Hermoine nibbled at his collarbone as he carried her. “Fuck, ‘Mione, if you keep doing that I may drop you.”

She just pulled back and smirked at him, squealing in surprise when he tossed her back onto the bed with his own smirk. He flicked his hand, lighting the candles floating in his room. He followed her down to the bed and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, not deepening it before he started kissing his way down her throat. She threw her head back and whimpered when he sucked one nipple into his mouth, laving it through the lace of her bra, and used his fingers to pinch and pull at her other nipple. “Oh, Merlin, Blaise. More please.” He smirked up at her again, and reached under her to quickly unhook her bra. He tossed it away over his shoulder, and went back to lavishing attention to her breasts until she was begging him for more, and bucking her hips in search of friction.

He kissed his way down her sternum and stomach, reaching the waistband of her knickers and groaning into her as he kissed his way along the waistband. He used his large hands to spread her thighs around his body, laying kisses up one thigh, then the other, getting close to her core, but never touching her there.

“Fuck! Blaise! Please!” She broke, trying to roll her hips up towards his face, but not achieving it with his arms wrapped around both of her thighs. He smirked up at her again, but obliged her. Wrapping his fingers in her knickers, and yanking them hastily down her legs. She yelped a little as she was exposed to the warm air of his bedroom, but it turned to a long moan as he pushed back in and zeroed in on her clit immediately, laving his tongue over it again and again. 

He tilted her hips up gently and pulled her legs, feet still clad in her heels, over his shoulders, laying on his stomach on his bed. She didn't realise at first that she was chanting his name as he worked her higher and higher with his lips and tongue against her clit, and two fingers buried deep in her. She started clenching around him rhythmically, desperate for that explosive ending. She was sure she could feel him smirk against her as he pushed a third finger into her, increasing the speed until he was fucking her hard and fast with his hand. 

She was gone when he sucked firmly on her clit, tumbling over the edge of her orgasm into bliss. She was sure she must’ve screamed out his name. He worked her down with gentle licks over her, and then pulled out his fingers, and pulled away from her. When she looked down at him, still a little dazed, he looked much too smug. He crawled up her body, and after casting a quick cleaning charm on his hands and mouth, took her lips in a passionate kiss.

At that moment she realised he was still dressed and pulled away, “Blaise!”

“Yes, love?” He asked with a smirk.

“You’re still dressed.” 

He glanced down at himself, looking as surprised as her to find that he was still wearing his robes, and Muggle trousers and top. “So I am.” He muttered. He pulled himself from the bed and stripped off his robes and shirt, she watched with bated breath whilst he slowly stripped off his trousers, making it into a tease when he noticed how interested she was in watching. His mouth quirked up in a half-smirk when she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, her eyes locked to his bulge as he pushed his trousers down off his hips, taking the boxers below with him.

“Fuck.” She muttered to herself, swallowing a little. When she saw his smirk, she rolled her eyes, “Come here.” She beckoned him over, and he joined her on the bed again, crawling over her predatorily, dark eyes flashing. 

He leant down over her, pushing into a deep kiss that she immediately responded to, turning it passionate in seconds. He groaned into her, grinding his (really rather impressive) erection down into her soft belly, leaving sticky trails of precome on her.

She pushed him back gently, and ran her hand down his chest, admiring how her slightly lighter skin complimented his. She grasped his cock in her hand, running her thumb over the tip in a way that made his hips stutter into hers. “Fuck, Hermione,” He whispered, looking down to watch her touch him.

She took her hand off him, and pushed lightly at his shoulders, getting him to roll over onto his back. He sent her a slightly bemused look until she knelt to the side of him, glancing up through her lashes briefly, before returning her attention back to his erection.

He swore loudly when she leant down and licked lightly over the head, and up and down the sides. She reached out and grasped his hand directing it to her head, as she sucked the tip of his dick into his mouth, and slowly made her way down. She worked him like that until he was gasping, his hand clenching and unclenching, but not pushing her down, as she slowly sucked him in as far as she could, and then pulled back up just as slowly. 

“Oh god, babe, I'm so close.” He moaned, his hand leaving her hair to wrap in the sheets tightly. She just kept sucking him off, going faster now, bringing her hands into it, one wrapping around the base of his cock, the other gently rolling his balls. 

“Hermione!” He called hoarsely, his hand lifting back up to tug lightly on her hair in warning, trying to pull her off before she got a mouthful. She just looked up at him, and at the same time, tugged lightly on his balls and sucked him as far in as she could, getting him nearly into her throat. When she swallowed around him a little he came down her throat with a loud shout of her name, and a light sob when she kept sucking for a moment longer.

“Fuck.” He groaned when she pulled off him. She climbed back up his body, cleaning her mouth quickly with a wandless  _ scourgify _ , and sank into a deep kiss with him. He sucked lightly on her bottom lip, murmuring “That was fucking amazing” into her mouth.

She grinned a little, “You were fucking amazing.” She retorted. She lay down next to him, her naked body curled up to his.

“Stay the night?” He asked her, looking down at her with eyes filled with some emotion Hermione wasn’t sure how to name.

She smiled, and pressed another kiss to his lips, “Definitely.” She murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	21. The greater good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of James this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, some actual plot is happening haha

**26th June 1999** **  
** **11:45am** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

James found Hermione hidden near the back of the library, a huge tome open on her lap, and a cup of tea floating near her that she periodically plucked out of the air and took a sip from. James found watching her strangely comforting, and ended up standing there like a lemon for longer than he meant to before he approached her.

“Hermione.” He said quietly as he stepped slowly ‘round the end of the bookshelves closest to her. She still startled a little, luckily she hadn't been holding her cup of tea.

“Oh! James. You made me jump.” She said with a light laugh, smiling kindly at him as he came and took the seat next to her on the sofa. “Everything okay?” She asked, examining his rather serious expression.

“Oh, yes. I just, I wanted to ask you.” He looked down at the book in her hands, avoiding her eyes. “I was wondering if you would tell me about the war.”

When she was silent for a conspicuous amount of time he looked up at her, examining her frown. “But haven’t you been told all about the war?” She asked, her brow furrowing further.

He shrugged a little, “Sirius and Remus told me what they knew, and so did Minerva. Harry has told me everything else, but..” He trailed off, and searched for the words to explain that he wanted to know her better, and knowing this part of her would help.

She watched him silently for a moment, assessing him, “But you want to hear my perspective?” She finally asked gently.

James shrugged, “Yeah. I think you’ll give me a less glossed over version.”

“You think they glossed over things?” Her eyebrows shot up her forehead, and she frowned at him. He shrugged again. She put her book aside, and turned to face him on the sofa. “What exactly do you want to know?”

“What do you think of Dumbledore?” He asked after a moment of quiet contemplation. He’d always respected the older wizard, but whenever he’d come up - however briefly - in conversation with Harry, Sirius, or Remus, they glossed over his involvement in the second war. The way they avoided talking about the man had stirred suspicion in James.

She hummed thoughtfully, and looked away from James, “I respected him for the longest time, we rather blindly followed along with what he told us in our school years, but after he died there were quite a few things that came to light about him that showed him in a new light.” She took a sip of her tea, “A light I didn't really like, in all honesty.” She shot him a look over her teacup, clearly trying to gauge what he thought of what she was saying.

“What things?”

Hermione sighed, “You know he was neighbours with Bathilda Bagshot, right? Lily’s letter to Sirius that we found suggested that you’d both found out he was friendly with Grindelwald?” James nodded, it had been rather horrifying to find out and both he and Lily hadn’t believed it really. “Well, that was true. He wasn't just  _ friends _ with Grindelwald though, as far as Elphias Doge said - he knew him rather well, you know - they were lovers. Dumbledore and he both fought for ‘the Greater Good’ supposedly.”

Her brows furrowed again, and she seemed to be contemplating the best way to reveal more about the former Hogwarts Headmaster to James. “Just tell me everything, Hermione.” He said gently. So she did, she told him all about the horrifying revelations Aberforth had revealed about Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald, and the Dumbledore family. When she’d finished he sat back in shock. 

“It’s not the reason I can never forgive him, though.” Hermione admitted quietly, avoiding James’ eyes purposefully, “He didn't tell us enough for our bloody Horcrux hunt sure, left us out in the open with nothing to protect ourselves with yes, didn't allow Harry to tell trained wizards the truth and take some of the burden from him yeah. But none of that is why.”

James blinked a little at the revelations no one else had given him. “None of those? Really?”

Hermione sniffed resolutely, ignoring the tears appearing in her eyes, and looked at James. She shrewdly examined him, and James had never felt more exposed before, “Harry is the brother I never had, you know?” She asked softly, “He was there for me in a way no one else ever was, especially after I had to send my parents away. I would have willingly laid down my life for him.” Her eyes bored into him, asking him to understand.

“I get it.” He whispered, “The Marauders were like that for me.” He paused, letting the sting of Wormtail’s betrayal wash over him and away, “Sirius and Remus still are.” He added quietly.

She nodded, and he found he understood this amazing woman before him like never before. “Dumbledore raised Harry like a lamb to the slaughter.” She finally said, watching James’ face intently, so she definitely saw his horrified flinch, “He sent him to the Dursleys knowing that being raised by those  _ awful _ people would make him so grateful and in awe of the Wizarding world, and he’d feel indebted to the person who introduced him to it all-”

“Dumbledore.”

“Yes.” Hermione paused again, “And then he didn't ever tell us enough to help us with the insane things we did at school. We thought we were old enough to deal with them at the time, you know? But no twelve year old should have to fight and kill a bloody basilisk. And he did all of it so that when the time came Harry was willing and ready to walk into that blasted forest and die.”

James jumped to his feet, forgetting for a moment that this had already happened, and his son was healthy and alive, “WHAT?! He sent Harry to die?”

She watched him for a moment, seemingly amused, “Snape reacted almost the same, you know.” James gaped at her, and winced a little at the reminder of his childhood nemesis. “But yes, he didn't tell Harry why, just let him see it in Snape’s memories. Harry was a horcrux, and he had to die for Voldemort to die. It worked out okay in the end. But  _ he _ didn't know it would.” She stared at him, “None of them told you that Harry was the last Horcrux, did they?”

James shook his head, admittedly unsurprised considering how he was currently feeling about Dumbledore, and everyone who had treated his son so badly. Sometimes he wished that he was actually the age he was supposed to be right now, maybe then he’d feel a little better about being so overprotective about his son. But his son was only two years younger than him now. She was watching him again, the darn witch too perceptive for her own good.

She stood up and pulled him into a hug suddenly, just squeezing him tighter when at first he flinched and stiffened a little. He swallowed and pulled away, “I’m sorry to keep bringing up such heavy subjects every time we talk.” He said with a small chuckle.

She gave him a gimlet stare, “I don’t mind, James.” She smiled kindly at him, and sat back down.

He took his seat again, and searched around for something to say, something to get them onto a different subject. His eyes caught on the book she’d been reading when he disturbed her, “What were you reading?” He asked, jutting his chin in the direction of the huge tome.

She glanced down at it and grimaced a little, “It’s for my potions mastery. I have my final exams in just over a month, and I’ve been desperately trying to cram anything and everything I can think of in.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You should’ve said you were busy, Hermione. I wouldn't have interrupted you if I’d’ve known.”

She just smiled at him, and heaved the book off the side table she’d placed it on, “I didn’t mind, James. It was good to have a distraction, even if it was to talk about something a little heavy.” She chuckled. “It’s good you know, I think. Harry always needs more supportive people around him who know everything, and stay anyway. He didn't have that before me and Ron, you know?”

He reached out and clasped her hands in his larger ones. “Thank you, Hermione.”

A flush rose up her cheeks, and she wrapped her hand around one of his, “You don’t need to thank me. That’s not why I’m friends with Harry.”

James scoffed, “Of course it isn't. Doesn't mean I can’t thank you though. You were there for him when I couldn't be, when even Sirius and Remus couldn't be.”

She stuttered a bit, and turned her face away from James’, unused to the praise. “What about-”

“Ron?” James finished for her, “He was there for Harry sometimes, from what I’ve been told. But Sirius has also said he was quite a fickle friend.” James raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who sighed and nodded.

“He was. But he loves us both.” She gently pulled her hands out of James’, and ran - or tried to run - one of her hands through her hair. It got stuck on her curls rather quickly, and she had to untangle herself with a wince.

James scoffed a little, “He said some rather cruel things about you, though, Hermione. I was there to see your reaction remember.” Hermione flinched, “Has he still not apologised?”

Hermione sighed, “He found me at my apprenticeship and offered a Ron-apology.”

“A Ron-apology?”

Hermione laughed a little, “Yes, he’s never been very good at apologising when he’s an idiot. So me and Harry started calling them ‘Ron-apologies’.” 

James let out a snort, and rolled his eyes. “We got off track into heavy things again. Sorry, Hermione.”

She just grinned a little at James, “I don’t mind.”

“Well, to make up for it will you let me help you study?” Hermione turned surprised eyes on the Potter patriarch, “No need for such a look of surprise. I may not be as good at potions as Lily was.” He winced, but didn't feel the same sense of loss as he usually did when he spoke about her, “But I might at least be able to offer you someone to bounce ideas off of?”

She grinned happily at him, and bounced rather uncharacteristically in her seat. “I’d love that, thank you James.”

**27th July 1999** **  
** **5pm** **  
** **St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries**

Hermione finished her day of training as she always did; scrubbing as much of the potions residue from her face, hair, and hands as she could in the showers on the dedicated potions floor of St. Mungo’s. She had a date with Blaise tonight, so she was determined to at least get herself as presentable as possible.

As she stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around her, and hair twisted up into the old cotton t-shirt she kept just for that purpose, Harry stepped into the changing rooms. “Harry! What are you doing here?”

“Hey, ‘Mione. Zabini appeared at the entrance and won’t go away. Says he’s waiting for you.”

Her eyes widened and she cast a quick wandless  _ tempus _ , “Oh no!” She cried, hurrying over to her clothes, “I took so much longer than I thought I would. I’m late for our date.”

Harry chuckled a little as he watched her rush around the changing room, hopping as she tried to pull her tights up under her towel, and apply makeup at the same time. She threw her hands up in exasperation, shrieking when the towel dropped and exposed her bare chest to Harry.

“Oh god, ‘Mione!” Harry cried, his hands flying to cover his eyes, “I might be gay, doesn't mean I’m cool with seeing your tits though.”

“Oh, bugger off.” She snapped, fixing her bra on quickly, “You can look now. Can you please go tell Blaise I’ll be ten minutes?”

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, “Fine. You gonna be home tonight?” He asked curiously, as he pulled the door open.

Hermione shrugged, shaking her hair down out of the t-shirt and applying gentle drying charms to try and stop the frizz as much as she could. “Not sure. Why?” She mumbled, distracted.

“I’m going out with dad, just curious.”

Hermione sent him a brief look, and then shrugged, “Okay. I’ll send you a patronus if I’m not going to be home.” 

Harry nodded and headed out of the changing rooms, leaving Hermione to her ablutions. He made his way back down to the ground floor of the hospital, looking around for Zabini once he reached it. “Zabini?”

Said man appeared, seemingly out of bloody nowhere, at Harry’s elbow, “Potter. Where’s Hermione?”

“She’s running a little late. She said to tell you she’d be ten minutes.” Harry looked the man over, taking in his rather relaxed robes (for the Pureblood heir he was), “You not going out tonight?” He asked curiously.

“No, I’m cooking dinner for Hermione at my place.”

“You.” Harry said blankly, “You’re cooking.”

“Yes, Potter. Not all Purebloods are as useless as the ones you clearly know.”

“Hey!”

“Just an observation based on the evidence you presented me with, Potter.” Zabini said placatingly.

Harry eyed him for a moment longer, then rolled his eyes, “Whatever. I’ve gotta go meet my dad for dinner.” He started walking away from Zabini, not in the mood to make small talk with the Slytherin (he wasn't sure what ‘Mione saw in him, but he’d at least be courteous as long as they were dating). “See ya, Zabini.”

Harry made his way quickly out of the hospital, and once he reached the apparition point, he apparated to the Leaky where he was meeting his father for a catch-up. They’d both been rather busy recently. Harry’s end of first year as a Healer trainee was coming up - along with exams, and James had been working hard in his position on the Wizengamot to try and change more of the archaic laws still in place.

Harry entered the Leaky, trying to avoid anyone seeing him, and headed to the table in the back that James was already sitting at. “Hey dad.” He said, taking the seat opposite his father. It still felt kinda weird to be referring to a man who only looked physically two years older than him as his dad.

“Harry.” James looked up from the menu with a grin, “How are you doing?”

Harry sighed and settled in happily to his seat. These dinners out had become a weekly thing for the two Potter men, getting to know each other without any of their friends and family around to interfere. They had a lot to catch up on, but now they had a lifetime to do so.

They dug into their food with gusto when a smiling Hannah Abbott brought it over for them, the conversation flowing around them as they discussed Harry’s training and the old Werewolf laws that James was currently trying to get overturned.

“How is the Werewolf sanctuary going?” Harry asked, shoving a large piece of yorkshire pudding into his mouth. “I feel like I’ve barely seen Remus since he’s been back from Hogwarts for summer.”

James chuckled, “Yeah he’s been spending a lot of time with Andromeda about the Sanctuary. It’s going really well as far as I know.” James dipped one of his chips in his pile of mayonnaise and thought for a moment, “Me and Pads don't really have much involvement. We just funded it.” He said with a shrug and a laugh.

Harry smiled, happy to see his father coping so much better than he had been months ago when they first started doing these dinners. “Any news on the cure?” He asked eagerly, as that’s what more of the Potter money was going towards, when the Black money was still going towards the Sanctuary and the still in-progress orphanage.

James grimaced, stabbing at his fish angrily, “Sadly nothing. There’s more people working on it now than ever before, but it’s still doubtful it will ever happen. We haven't told Moony yet.” Harry nodded, none of them wanted to get Remus’ hopes up when it was such a long shot. “But I’ve made some headway with the ridiculous laws not allowing werewolves into St. Mungo’s. Not much of course, but we’re getting there.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Surprisingly Malfoy has been bloody helpful.” Harry raised surprised eyebrows, “I know, don't give me that look. But he’s nothing like his father was, and having one of the not blood-traitor families on my side is helping. He’s also able to sway some of the younger members who’ve taken over for their parents. Like Nott.”

“Huh.” Harry wrinkled his nose, still unused to anyone talking about Malfoy in a positive light, or having to see him as anything other than his childhood nemesis. 

James chuckled at Harry’s face, “Look, far be it from me to suggest getting over a rivalry, but he is the best friend of the man your best friend is currently dating.” James pointed out, hiding his own visceral reaction at the reminder that Hermione was happily dating Blaise Zabini.

Their over dinner chat turned to other things, and soon both were laughing over mugs full of mead about much less heavy things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! 10 chapters and an epilogue after this.


	22. Longbottom's Loke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more Harry and James interaction, and Hermione and James interaction this chapter :P Thanks everyone for your lovely comments! Even if I don't respond to them, I read them all and I love every single one of you who takes any time to comment (and kudos/subscribe)

**28th July 1999** **  
** **10pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

The night of the July full moon came ‘round bright and quiet. Remus was away at the Sanctuary and, as he had for the last few full moons, he’d requested that James and Sirius allow him to continue developing the relationships he was building with the werewolves there without their animagus presence.

Usually this just meant that James and Sirius transformed and gamboled around Potter Manor’s extensive gardens, but this month they’d agreed to help Harry. Said young man stood with his father and godfather now in the light of the bright full moon, mandrake leaf in his hand.

“So I keep this in my mouth until the next full moon?” He asked sceptically, looking down at the rather large leaf.

James chuckled, “Yeah. It’s not the easiest bloody thing to do. We all swallowed it, or spit it out in our sleep multiple times.”

Sirius barked out a loud laugh, “I think it took us about five months just to get past this stage. If you do swallow it or spit it out you have to start all over again at the next full moon I’m afraid, Harry.”

Harry grimaced, but slowly put the leaf in his mouth, moving it side to side to the roof of his mouth to try and discern the best place to leave it. “Can I use a sticking charm?” He asked plaintively, his words slightly garbled from the leaf in his mouth.

James and Sirius exchanged horrified looks, “You fucker.” Sirius breathed, “You probably can as well.”

“Why the hell didn't we ever think of that, Padfoot?” James groaned.

Harry laughed, “Cos you’re both idiots?” He suggested with a cheeky grin.

“Oh, bugger off, you.” Sirius shoved his godson lightly, laughing at the smug look on his face, “Right, stay still and I’ll do the sticking charm for you.” Harry did so, allowing his godfather to charm the leaf to stick to the roof of his mouth.

“How will we know if it does or doesn't work?”

“You’ll know when you spit it out into the vial at the end of the month.” James said decisively, “It’s supposed to look a certain way, so you’ll know if it doesn't.” 

“Have you found somewhere to find the untouched dew?” Sirius asked as the three men headed back into the Manor. Harry grimaced, shrugging and following his father and Sirius into the drawing room. They all settled into chairs around the blazing fire Hermione had built up before she’d headed to bed to read. 

“Where the hell am I even supposed to find untouched dew?” Harry exclaimed, accepting the glass of elf wine James passed him.

“You should be able to find some in the greenhouses at the back.” James said thoughtfully, settling comfortably back into his chair with a sigh. “The overgrowth in there is so much that there’ll almost definitely be dew that hasn't seen sunlight in there.”

Harry blinked, “There’s greenhouses here?”

Sirius barked a laugh, “Of course there is. Have you seen how bloody big the grounds are?” He took a deep gulp of his firewhiskey, “Mum - Dorea - used to spend so much time back there cultivating them. She’d hate to know they’ve gone to disuse so much.”

James chuckled a little, “Merlin, dad used to spend so long complaining about her spending her time back there, but he loved it really. He loved that it made her so happy.” James’ eyes lit up with happiness thinking about his parents, “I wish you could’ve met them Harry.” He said wistfully.

Harry reached out and grabbed his father’s hand, who squeezed his tightly, “I wish I could’ve too. I'm so happy I got to meet you though, dad. I never thought I’d get to see any of my family.” Sirius made a little faux offended scoff. Harry shot Sirius an amused look and corrected himself, “Blood family.”

“That’s more like it.” Sirius muttered, chuckling when both Potters rolled their eyes at him.

**31st July 1999** **  
** **7pm** **  
** **Longbottom’s Loke - Snowdonia, Wales** **  
** **Residence of Neville and Augusta Longbottom**

Harry and Neville had decided they wanted to celebrate their nineteenth birthdays together, and Neville had offered up his family’s Manor for the celebration at the end of July. Neville had been training with Ron to be an Auror for the last year, following in his parents footsteps to the surprise of a lot of his friends.

Mrs Weasley had spent the day before creating an impressively large cake for the two, and complaining to Arthur that Neville and Harry hadn't allowed her to make anything else for the party as Neville’s house-elves had taken charge of both the cooking and the decorating.

The Potter household arrived earlier than most of the guests to help with last minute set-up or anything that was needed. “Harry! Hermione! Everyone else!” Neville had greeted them cheerfully at the door, already dressed up in some expensive looking robes. 

“Hi Neville.” Hermione said with a big smile for their friend, as they stepped through the door, “Happy birthday for yesterday.”

“Thanks Hermione. Happy birthday Harry.” 

“Hey, Nev. Thanks, you too.” Harry pulled the Longbottom heir into a hug and the birthday boys shared a laugh as Neville led the group further into the Manor.

“We’ve set everything up in the ballroom over here,” He said, ushering them through to the large ballroom that Longbottom’s Loke boasted. Harry and Hermione immediately disappeared off to set up the surprise they’d sorted with Augusta Longbottom for Neville. Neville turned a large smile on the three Marauders, Tonks, and Teddy. “Make yourselves comfortable. Everyone else should arrive soon.”

Neville had been right. Sirius and James set themselves up in a far corner of the room to watch as people started arriving - an eclectic mix of high Pureblood society guests, and whoever Neville and Harry had wanted to be there.

“Is that a centaur?” James had exclaimed at one point, staring at the doors into the ballroom.

“Yeah, he taught at Hogwarts for a time.” Remus had said with a chuckle, he’d joined them when the room had started getting busier, Tonks disappearing off with Teddy in her arms to be the social butterfly she was. James had just blinked in surprise and shrugged it off.

Sirius wandered over to escort Narcissa, Andromeda, and Draco when the three arrived, the Black family presenting a united front to the assembled guests - a who’s who of the Wizarding World in reality. James chuckled a little to himself, Augusta had definitely had a hand in organising who came to this party for the Longbottom and Potter heirs - war heros that they were, this was clearly more of a society celebration than that - because otherwise most of the people in the room likely wouldn't have been invited.

“You okay?” Hermione found James skulking in the corner by himself not long later, the party in full swing now, all the guests arrived, and his two best friends nowhere to be found.

“Yeah.” He nodded, “Just a little overwhelmed at this.” James admitted awkwardly, “Time was I was brought up on society parties and mingling like this, but it’s been a while.”

Hermione sighed, and nodded her understanding. “I’m sure Harry wouldn't mind if you needed to escape.” She pointed out, turning her back to the room to face him. Her shrewd eyes, such a lovely colour James thought to himself, examined him.

He shook his head though, their eyes still locked, “I don’t want to leave his birthday party.”

Hermione stared a second longer, then nodded decisively. “Okay. Come dance with me then.” She grabbed his hand before he could protest, and pulled him towards the large cleared area where couples were currently twirling in each other's arms.

“Hermione.” She turned to face him and stepped in close, pulling one of his arms to wrap around her waist when he didn't move. He swallowed convulsively and reminded himself that the woman in his arms was so far off limits that he never had a chance. 

“Come on James, prove Sirius wrong.”

James narrowed his eyes a little, “What did that fucker say?” He grumbled.

“Just that he could dance better than you. I’ve danced with him already, so prove him wrong.” She grinned at James’ competitive growl, and he sternly told himself to stop thinking about how good she felt in his arms as he pulled her slightly closer with the arm around her waist and took her hand in his free hand.

He twirled her around the floor, letting the world around them fall away as he watched the beautiful witch in his arms smile joyfully up at him. He tried desperately to ignore the way his heart started beating faster, and his hands got sweaty. Not only did this witch have a boyfriend that she seemed to like very much. But he also definitely didn't feel like he was over Lily enough to move on, especially not with someone he liked and respected so much when it would only be a rebound.

“Well, do I pass muster?” He murmured to her as they moved gracefully around the dance floor.

“Rather wonderfully I think.” She said with a small laugh, squealing a little when he spun her out from him quickly ,and then back in. She hit his chest when he pulled her back in, unintentionally closer than before, both his arms wrapped low around her hips now, her hands on his chest. He had to look away from her radiance for a moment, focusing on anything else. His eyes caught on Sirius’, who was standing at the edge of the dance floor. His best friend raised an eyebrow and sent an indecipherable look down at Hermione. James swallowed reflexively, feeling judged, and looked away from Sirius.

As the song came to an end there was a harsh clearing of a throat right next to them, and they pulled away suddenly. They both turned to look and James winced a little at the sharp and rather angry look Zabini sent him. 

“If I could steal away my girlfriend for a dance, Potter.” Zabini said sharply.

“Of course.” James muttered, stepping back and away. He just vaguely heard Hermione scolding her boyfriend for his possessive behaviour as he walked quickly off the dance floor and in the direction of the doors leading outside, needing a breather.

He pushed the doors open, and stepped through, looking back into the room as he pulled the balcony doors shut behind him. He turned, stopped, stared for a brief moment and then let out a loud sound of surprise completely unintentionally.

The two men in front of him, locked in a rather passionate embrace judging by the swollen lips and mussed hair, pulled apart and turned to look at James. “Harry?” James’ voice squeaked out rather embarrassingly as he stared first at his horrified, and scared, looking son, and then turned wide hazel eyes on the man still half wrapped around his son, “ _ Draco?!” _ If possible James’ voice had gotten higher.

“Dad…” Harry trailed off, looking away from his father, briefly to the Malfoy heir, and winced, “I-.” Harry flinched a little when James closed his eyes - not aware that James was just trying to wish himself anywhere but there right then, as opposed to what Harry was seeing as disappointment from his father. “I have to go.” Harry blurted, pulling away from Draco quickly, and pushing past James to get back inside. 

Draco, still standing there looking a little dazed, blinked a couple of times and then turned shrewd darkened eyes on James, “Are you angry?” The Malfoy heir snapped. 

James flinched and finally looked up again, “What? No. Of course not.” James frowned at Draco, “Why would I be angry?”

Draco eyed him for a moment longer, “You looked angry.” He finally said, then, “I would suggest you go find your son, and talk to him.” With a sharp nod the Malfoy heir strode past James back into the frivolity of Harry and Neville’s birthday party.

James blinked a few times, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. Then he took a deep breath and headed back inside to find his son, he’d clearly been upset about something, and he shouldn't be on his birthday.

James wound his way ‘round the edge of the dance floor keeping his eye out for the messy head of black Potter hair. When he couldn't see it he headed towards another head of dark hair that he could see, winding his way past people until he came to stand next to Sirius.

“Prongs. Enjoying yourself? Saw you getting a little close with ‘Mione earlier.” Sirius waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

James ignored his friend’s ribbing, and turned to face him, “You seen Harry anywhere, Padfoot?”

Sirius sent him a searching look, and nodded after a moment, “He came tearing through here a couple minutes ago. He didn't look too happy. Moony went after him.”

James frowned, not wanting his son upset - though he still wasn't really sure why he was, “Where’d they go?”

“Upstairs I think.” Sirius said with a matching frown.

“Right.” James pivoted on his heel, and waved over his shoulder, “I’ll be back in a few.”

He hurried out the ballroom, and headed up the stairs, straining his slightly advanced hearing to see if he could hear Remus and Harry. He couldn't, so he hurried up the rest of the stairs and started along one of the hallways quietly, listening intently. After a couple minutes he could hear voices at the end of the corridor. He crept slowly along the corridor until he neared the end.

“-me like he was horrified.”

“I’m sure it wasn't like that, Harry.” Remus’ voice was soft and consoling. “He wouldn't judge you for that, he’s told you that. The Wizarding world actually has rather progressive views towards sexuality and gender.”

James paused for a moment, did Harry think he’d been judging him for making out with a man? James was horrified at the thought, he would never do such a thing to his son! He rounded the corner determinedly, Remus was standing next to Harry who was slumped over and sitting on a low windowsill, his head in his hands. Remus had a hand resting in a fatherly manner on Harry’s shoulder.

“Harry?” James said quietly. Harry’s head shot up and his son stared at him with suspiciously red-rimmed eyes. “Malfoy pointed out that I may have upset you, so I came to find you.” He didn't give away that he’d heard the tail end of Harry speaking, and Remus’ comforting words.

Remus eyed James briefly and sent him a raised eyebrow. James just shrugged minutely, Remus nodded and squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

Remus stepped away and passed James, giving him a quick smile and pat on the shoulder as he wandered away. James took a fortifying breath, and sat next to Harry on the windowsill. “I’m not entirely sure what happened.” James started, fidgeting a little, and looking away from Harry, “I do know that though I’m not really a fan of seeing my son snogging anyone,” He felt Harry wince beside him, and turned to look at his son, hating the terrified edge he could see in his face. He reached out and grabbed both of Harry’s hands in his, “ _ But, _ ” He emphasised, “I don’t care who you’re snogging.”

Harry frowned, and pulled his hands back from James, fidgeting with them a little in his lap, “You don’t? But, you looked-.”

“I looked horrified?” James asked tentatively. Circe, he was only twenty-one, he didn't feel old enough to be having this conversation with his nineteen year old son. “Yeah, I probably did. I don’t really enjoy seeing my relatives kissing anyone, you know?” He said with a light chuckle that surprised a laugh out of Harry. “I also wasn't expecting you to be making out with Draco Malfoy considering some of the stuff I’ve heard you complain about the man.” James said with a small chuckle.

Harry nodded a little, “It was the first time, and it wasn't exactly planned.” He shuffled his feet, staring down at them, “It was nice though.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin.

“Oh Merlin. Don't say that!” James exclaimed, grinning to bely his words, “I don’t need to hear about your exploits Harry.” He chuckled, “Save that for Sirius.”

Harry looked at James for a long moment, obviously contemplating whether to say what he wanted to say, “The Dursleys were awful people.” He finally said quietly. “I know that ‘Mione told you how they were,” He glanced up at James through his fringe of black hair so similar to James’, his green eyes glinting. It suddenly struck James, like it did every now and again - always when he wasn't prepared for it - how much Harry resembled his mother. Lily’s eyes. “She told me the next day, couldn't keep it to herself,” Harry’s lips quirked in a loving smile for his best friend, “But I’m not sure if she told you just how hateful they were. I had it instilled in me from a young age that anyone different was bad, you know? Any type of different, not just  _ magic _ different.”

James blew out an angry breath, “There’s nothing I regret more than you being left with those people.” He seethed, adding another thing to punish them for to his ongoing list.

Harry nodded, “Seeing that look on your face just made me think of them, you know? So, I ran. Like I always used to from Dudley.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel like running, son.” James said into the quiet of the hall. “But I said I don’t care what your sexuality is, and I meant it. I’d just prefer to not watch my son make out with anyone, you know.” He gave Harry a cheeky grin, and pushed himself to his feet. He held a hand out to Harry to take, “Now come on, it’s your birthday party, stop moping around up here with your old man.”

Harry scoffed a laugh, “You’re not old.” He grabbed James’ hand and let him pull him to his feet. Together they made their way back downstairs to join the festivities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	23. The downfalls of drinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter really fought me when I was writing it, but I couldn't spend any longer on it, so hope you guys like it anyway...

**6th August 1999** **  
** **4:30pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

Hermione stumbled out of the floo into Potter Manor’s kitchen, already late to get ready for Ginny’s birthday night out. She’d left training early, and she knew she’d be in for hell catching up next week - her exams for her Potions Mastery were coming at the end of August after all - but this was Ginny’s eighteenth birthday celebration and they were going into Muggle London, now that Ginny was legal there too, to celebrate.

She hurried upstairs to join her friends - who she could hear chatting loudly and laughing in what sounded like Tonks and Remus’ suite. When she pushed open the door she found Ginny lying on the bed, head hanging off the side, her long red hair cascading to curl against the floor, she was only wearing a very risque bra and knickers set. Luna and Tonks both looked a little more sober than the birthday girl (whose birthday had actually been five days ago), and were currently standing, also only in bras and knickers, in front of Tonks’ wardrobe flicking through for something for Tonks to wear.

Hermione stared in rather horrified fascination at the ensemble that was clearly Luna’s sitting off to the side - a garishly orange pair of what she thought might be latex short shorts, a bright blue crop top, and sparkly silver heels. “Do we all have to dress so scantily?” She asked, laughing when they all jumped in surprise - Ginny with a yelp and a bang as she slid onto the floor.

“Yes!” Ginny crowed, jumping to her feet and ignoring what was definitely going to be spectacular bruising come morning. “I’ve got your outfit picked out already ‘Minny!” Ginny shouted, as always unable to control her volume when properly drunk.

“Oh dear Merlin, please don't ever call me Minny again.” Hermione pleaded, following a tottering Ginny towards an outfit laid out on the bed that she hadn't noticed before. She stared wide-eyed down at the burnished gold dress with both intrigue and horror, “No way am I wearing that.” She exclaimed, not even wanting to think about how  _ exposed _ she’d be in the dress - it had a scoop neck that would almost reach her navel when she put it on she was sure, and thin spaghetti straps, and the rest of it looked like it would hug her curves and the skirt would almost definitely (knowing Ginny) not go much further than  _ just _ past her arse.

“Oh yes you are!” Tonks and Ginny chorused as one. They sent each other smug conspiratorial looks. “Or,” Ginny threatened much too soberly, “I’ll start calling you Minny everywhere and you know the boys will all pick up on it.”

Hermione grimaced, recognising the truth of the statement, and stared back down at the dress. “I’m going to be showing everything.” She groaned, horrified.

“With a few good sticking charms nothing’ll fall out.” Tonks soothed, very unsoothingly. She also waved a pair of golden stilettos at Hermione with a cheeky grin.

“Urgh, fine!” Hermione finally exclaimed upon having all three of her friends turn pleading eyes on her. “What are you wearing, Gin?” She asked to try and take the attention off her.

Ginny grinned and picked up a pair of dark purple leather trousers that would hug all of Ginny’s body and hide nothing, and a black top that was basically half of a bikini. Hermione’s eyes widened and she knew there was no getting out of wearing the dress her friends had picked out for her - not that she was too upset about it.

“Are you going to see Blaise later, Hermione.” Luna asked serenely, “I think he’d like the dress.” Hermione choked a little on nothing, letting out a short laugh - Luna wasn't wrong.

“I might do, yeah.”

“I’m going to see Pansy later.” Ginny said and waggled her eyebrows with a giggle. “You should change into these, ‘Mione.” She said holding out a pair of sheer knickers and bra that left little to the imagination. Hermione’s eyes widened, but she sighed and accepted them with a nod.

“You think Remus would like this?” Tonks asked, turning away from her wardrobe with a pretty silvery ethereal kind of dress in her hands.

“Put it on!” Ginny demanded, “Then we’ll know!” She also hustled Hermione and Luna to get dressed, pulling her own bra off and then fixing on the bikini top, and pulling her trousers up. When they were all ready they looked properly dressed up for a night out, their makeup and hair fixed in place with magic.

“I feel like we should gather the men in the hall to admire us before we leave.” Ginny said with a giggle, flicking her hair back over her shoulder. “You look amazing in that ‘Mione,” She eyed Hermione who actually felt pretty amazing in the dress Ginny’d picked out for her. “You too Tonks.” She said to the older woman, who did indeed look fantastic in the silver dress she’d found.

They made their way downstairs, and followed the sound of voices into the kitchen where Remus, Sirius, and James were sitting at the table sharing a drink. Their eyes widened gratifyingly when the four witches stepped into the room.

“Merlin!” Sirius exclaimed, looking them all over briefly, and then averting his eyes respectfully - these women were either related/married or much too young for him.

Remus’ mouth had dropped open upon the sight of his wife wrapped in the beautiful silvery dress. He stood from the table quickly, and in three long strides pulled Tonks into his arms and kissed her passionately. When he pulled away he whispered, “Do you have to go out tonight?” Tonks just laughed, pressed another quick kiss to Remus’ lips and winked.

James had been silent since they’d entered the room, his wide eyes fixed on the vision that was Hermione in that  _ dress _ . Luckily Hermione was too focused on watching Remus and Tonks with a small smile to notice the fact that her best friend’s father was practically drooling over her. Sirius and Ginny both noticed however, Sirius smacked James lightly so he wouldn't give himself away, Ginny just smirked.

They sat with the men for a while, Hermione getting to the same level of buzzed as the other girls - something that left her still able to floo travel, but certainly not apparate safely.

**10:30pm** **  
** **Kings Cross Station - London**

They headed out not long after that, flooing - to Hermione’s surprise - onto Platform 9 ¾ in Kings Cross station. “Where are we going?” She asked as they walked out of the barrier onto the Muggle platforms. 

“There’s this amazing Muggle club called Bagley’s in a warehouse behind the station.” Tonks explained with a large grin, leading the younger girls out of the station. They got quite a few appreciative looks as they made their way ‘round to the warehouses, the sound of pumping music getting louder as they got closer.

“Wow!” Ginny exclaimed, “That’s such a long queue for this early.”

Tonks just grinned, and led them to the end of the queue. The wait felt like an eternity when they were all itching to get into what sounded like an amazing atmosphere. They finally made it to the front of the queue and were ushered inside the pumping nightclub. 

They spent the next few hours drinking, dancing and generally celebrating Ginny’s birthday in the best fashion possible. Hermione had lost track of Luna and Tonks a while ago - she actually suspected the metamorphmagus had gone home to Remus for some fun. Ginny was currently grinding with her girlfriend who seemed to have appeared from nowhere - Hermione suspected that was Ginny’s doing.

Hermione was quite happy dancing by herself, eyes closed as she let the pulse of the music move through her. She was so caught up that she jumped a little in surprise when an unknown person stepped up against her back. She tensed, hand twitching as she fought the urge to reach for her wand in a crowded Muggle club. 

“Hey gorgeous.” A deep voice growled in her ear, pulling her back against his body and ignoring the way she tensed further at the unknown person being so close. “I’ve been watching you all night. So sexy in this little gold dress. You’re just asking for it aren't you.” His deep voice was loud in her ear even with the music pounding.

“No.” She said firmly, trying to pull away from him without injuring him or using her magic. He just pulled her tighter to him, chuckling a little when she struggled. 

“Feels good when you do that, sweetheart.” He groaned, shoving his hips against her arse so she could feel his erection.

She snarled angrily, and sent her elbow back into his stomach hard. He coughed and released her, and she quickly stepped forward away from him and spun to face the awful man. She didn't recognise him, which sent a shiver of relief through her - she’d been so worried it would be one of the still uncaptured Death Eaters. 

He growled and stepped forward swiftly, anger in his hard features, “You’re gonna pay for that missy.” She hated that she could still hear his threats over the music. She quickly stepped back again, her hand drifting to her thigh where her wand was concealed, ready to pull it if needed.

He stepped forward again, his hand reaching for her wrist to pull her closer. Before he could get a hold there were arms pulling Hermione back, and someone stepped in front of her.

“Back the fuck off creep.” She heard the person growl over the music, and her heart thudded in her chest as she recognised the tense shoulders and deep voice of her rescuer. Sirius Black was a scary man normally, but now - even from the back - he cut an intimidating figure.

She glanced to the sides where her arms were being held gently still and saw Luna one side, smiling gently down at Hermione, and James the other, scowling past his best friend at the offending man.

“Aww come on, man. Find your own girl. I had her first.”

Sirius snarled, and lifted the man off the dance floor by a few inches, bringing him close to the Black’s face. “Listen up, she said no, arsehole. She’s not a possession for you to  _ have _ . Leave now, before I break you.” The man scowled, but stalked away when Sirius set him back to the floor.

He pivoted to face her then, worry in his eyes, as they hustled her off the floor to a more secluded corner in the back of the club. 

“You okay, Hermione?” James asked once they were away from the press of other dancers.

She nodded, “I don’t need someone to rescue me,” She pointed out to both wizards, a little irritated “And how did you know to come?”

Sirius gestured at the blonde witch with them, “Luna sent her patronus. She was worried you or her would have to resort to magic to get rid of the creep. That’s the only reason we swooped in for the rescue, Kitten. We all know you can take care of yourself, but sometimes you don't have to.”

Hermione scowled a little, but conceded the point and sighed. “Fine.” She glanced around the club, “Where are the others?” She asked Luna.

“Tonks left a while ago to go see Remus, Ginny and Pansy are still dancing.” Luna gestured at the floor where the two witches were indeed dancing, and seemed lost in their own little world.

Hermione sighed, “I want to leave. Are you going to stay Luna?” She asked.

Luna nodded, and smiled at Hermione’s worried look, “I can take care of myself too, Hermione. Don't worry.”

“Alright.” She turned to the two wizards when the blonde witch disappeared back into the crowd, “I’m going to go see Blaise.” She decided spur of the moment. She wanted comfort and he was the first to come to mind. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiled and stalked out of the club to apparate to her boyfriend’s, downing a sober-up before she did so.

Sirius sent James a look when he scowled at Hermione going to visit her boyfriend. He clapped a hand on James’ shoulder and steered them both out of the club too.

**7th August 1999** **  
** **2am** **  
** **Blaise Zabini’s residence - London**

Blaise was not expecting to be woken at fuck o’clock in the morning by the buzz of his magical intercom. He groaned and pulled himself from his warm bed, yanking a pair of jogging bottoms up his legs so he didn't answer the door completely naked. He ran his hand over his short hair and, wand in hand, made his way to the intercom, holding his wand to it and snapping, “What?” irritably into it.

“Blaise?” Hermione’s voice wavered a little at the sharpness in Blaise’s.

“Hermione? What are you doing here?” He exclaimed, allowing his authorisation to register and bring the lift up to his flat. “Come up.” He didn't give her a chance to answer his first question.

There was the rattle as the lift rose rapidly, and then the doors opened and his girlfriend stumbled out into his open arms. He pulled her close, then looked down at her and his brain stuttered to a halt. He’d seen her in multiple states of dress and undress, but whatever she was in right now made her look bloody amazing. Her back where his hands were resting was bare, the back of the dress non-existent. He swallowed as he tried to focus on anything other than how amazing her arse looked right now just barely covered, and her long long legs ending in fuck me heels.

“Are you okay, love?” He asked, desperately trying to take his mind off of her body.

She nodded against his chest, and mumbled, “Was out for Ginny’s birthday, some creep felt me up. Wanted to see you, rid him from my mind.”

He grinned a little at her wanting to see him, then scowled fiercely as the rest of her words sunk in. He pushed her gently away from him, enough so he could see her face, and desperately tried to ignore how amazing her tits looked in her dress. “What happened?” He asked with a frown.

“Just a creep trying to dance with me in the club.” She smiled up at his frown, “It’s fine Blaise.”

He grumbled, some creep touching up his girlfriend wasn't ‘fine’. Before he could say anything she’d pushed up onto her tiptoes and pulled him into a deep kiss. He knew she was just kissing him to distract him, but he allowed her to, sinking into the fantastic kiss with a groan into Hermione’s mouth. He leaned down a little, wrapping his arms under her generous thighs and lifting her up against him into his arms. She moaned, and wrapped her arms around his neck, still kissing him furiously as he walked them down the hall into his bedroom, revelling the feel of her body pressed all against him in the best way.

**17th August 1999** **  
** **9pm** **  
** **The Hand and Heart pub - Nottingham, Nottinghamshire**

Sirius had dragged James out of the Manor for the first time since Hermione’s altercation a couple of weeks ago. James knew he’d been moping around the Manor since then, and that his best friend had gotten annoyed with him. So here they were walking into some pub in Nottingham after having apparated to the city. 

They found a seat hidden in a corner of the bar, and proceeded to both get spectacularly drunk. James watched his best friend - his brother - down the end of what had to be his fifth or sixth pint and winced when Sirius turned his piercing grey eyes on him.

“What’s going on then, Prongs?”

“What?” James blinked a couple times, genuinely confused about where Sirius was going with this line of questioning.

Sirius rolled his eyes and leant forward across the table, “You’ve been acting really odd around Hermione for a while now.” Sirius paused in thought, “Actually, ever since she started dating Zabini you’ve been acting weird.”

James' eyes widened at the accusation, and he determinedly avoided Sirius’ knowing gaze, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Padfoot.”

Sirius snorted, “Yeah. You do. Getting it out now when it’s just me and I’m not going to judge - much - is the best idea, mate.”

James sighed, but he was just drunk enough that he’d lost his filter, and Sirius had always been able to see through him anyway. “I’m jealous.” He admitted quietly, staring down into his pint and avoiding Sirius’ gaze, “I hate it too. She’s beautiful, and funny, and so insanely intelligent, and brave, and  _ Merlin _ so many other things too. And every time I look at her recently I want to know her better, be with her, or just around her.” James trailed off, trying to collect the rest of his thoughts.

Sirius made an encouraging noise, making a ‘go on’ gesture when James looked up at him.

“And then I feel so fucking guilty, Pads. Lily’s been gone for so long, but it’s not even been a year for me.” He turned tear-filled hazel eyes up to look at Sirius, “Sometimes I don’t know how I can go on without her, and then you, Harry, Moony, or Hermione will say something or do something and it’s like I forget about her. I don’t feel like I have any right to move on, Pads. Especially not onto another woman so soon.”

Sirius sighed and took a moment before speaking, “Prongs, you know that Evans would tear you a new one for feeling so guilty.” James’ lip quirked into a small smile at one side at the affectionate way Sirius said ‘Evans’. “She loved you, and Merlin bloody knows she knew you loved her. But she didn't die so we could all mope around missing her. She’d’ve wanted you to live for her, even if that means moving on to another woman. Just because you like, or love, someone else, doesn't mean you no longer love Lily, or that you’ve forgotten about her. But, mate, you’re still alive, and you need to act like it.”

James took a shuddering breath, glad for the darkness of the corner that they sat in that allowed him to shed his tears in peace, “Yeah?” He finally whispered when he felt a little more composed.

“Yeah, mate. You  _ know _ she’d want you to.”

“But she’s with someone else.” James said plaintively.

Sirius sighed, and shrugged, “Yeah, she is. You’ll either have to wait, or move on, mate.” James sighed too, watching as more and more people gathered in the pub for some live Muggle band that was playing tonight. “Come on, drink some more and let's forget about everything for a night.” Sirius said with a grin that had always spelled trouble in school.

So they did, getting drunker and drunker as the night got later and later, until they were both dancing with wild grins on their faces to music they didn't know. At some point, when James was so sloshed everything was melting into blurs around him, and music tasted like colours, some girl pressed herself all up against him and before he knew it he was pressing her up against the wall and snogging the life out of her.

A sudden slap on his shoulder from a more sober, and worried, looking Sirius broke him suddenly out of the kiss, and he looked down at the girl, disgusted with himself for thinking her hair wasn't either red and straight, or dark and curly enough either way, and her eyes were all the wrong colour, and for making out with some random person he could barely see through the blur of his drunkenness.

He turned in horror to look at Sirius, “Wha’d I do?” He slurred.

Sirius frowned and said something James couldn't really comprehend, then steered James out of the pub with a hand on his shoulder, and apparated them both back to Potter Manor, where James promptly threw up into the bushes at the entrance to the grounds, the pull of apparition turning his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! You might notice that the chapter count has increased by one, I've added another chapter before the epilogue.


	24. Evans Memorial Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg we're getting closer and closer to the end! I love you all you amazing people <3 thanks for all the love on this fic!
> 
> Also holy shit I've just passed 200,000 words total published on A03!!! That's madness to me haha :O

**18th August 1999** **  
** **6am** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

James woke up much too early the next morning, and groaned as he opened his eyes, the room too bright for the way his head was pounding. When he managed to drag himself out of bed and to the bathroom to pee and have a drink he stared at himself in the mirror, at his blood-shot eyes and incredibly dishevelled hair - the messiness expounded upon by his hangover. 

He managed to gulp down a couple of glasses of water, and rummaged in his cupboard for a hangover potion which he couldn't find. He groaned and took a long time to pull some clothes on until he looked at least half decent and then dragged himself downstairs slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible so as to not exacerbate his pounding headache. 

He made his way quietly into the kitchen, surprised to find Remus already sitting at the table, a cup of something in his hands. Remus raised an eyebrow at James as he dragged himself into the room and dropped down into a chair, slowly letting his head thunk to the table and groaning a little in relief at the feel of the cool wood against his hot face.

“Good night, Prongs?” Remus asked, amusement clear in his voice.

“No.” James moaned into the table quietly, knowing Remus would hear him no matter how quiet he spoke.

“You haven't got any hangover potion in your bathroom?” Remus asked kindly.

“No.”

Remus chuckled quietly, and James heard his chair scrape. There were the sounds of some rummaging and then suddenly a full mug with steam curling out of it, and a stoppered vial of potion, were placed in front of him, “Here you go. Potion first, then coffee.” Remus ordered, walking away again.

“Thanks, Moony.” James muttered, pushing himself up enough to down the hangover potion, and then gulp down a couple sips of the hot coffee. Instantly his headache cleared, and the aches and pains from the rest of his body dulled considerably. Sadly hangover potion didn't do anything for his tiredness from lack of sleep, but he supposed that that was what the coffee was for.

“What happened?” Remus asked when James looked more alive, sitting back down in his previously vacated seat.

James blinked a couple times at his friend, unsure what he meant, “Huh?”

“You said it wasn't a good night. What happened?”

James groaned, dropping his head back to the table, “We went to some pub in Nottingham. Drank a lot, though I think someone spiked my drink cos I’ve never felt like that before.” Remus made a small angry sound, but didn't interrupt. “Then I made out with some random Muggle. Sirius dragged me away.”

James looked up at Remus who blinked a couple of times, then sighed, “You’re feeling guilty again.” Remus deduced.

“What?” How did Remus know? Had Sirius told him? No way, Padfoot wouldn't betray James’ trust like that.

Remus sighed and rolled his eyes, “How long have we been friends, James?”

James frowned and narrowed his eyes, unsure where Remus was going with this, “Since we were eleven.”

“Right, so I know you pretty well, yeah?”

“Yeah?”

“So it’s pretty bloody easy for me to look at you, and know over the last few months you’ve been feeling guilty about something, and something made you feel like that last night.” Remus paused for a moment, “Well, I’m pretty sure what made you feel like that last night.” He shot James a wry look, and James chuckled momentarily, grimacing when the memory came to him, unfortunately clear. “I’m also pretty sure I know what’s making you feel guilty the rest of the time, but why don't you tell me.”

Remus gestured encouragingly at James, who rolled his eyes a little, suddenly seeing Professor Lupin clear as day. He sighed but relayed the same things he’d said to Sirius last night, explaining his true feelings since he’d been living in Potter Manor with Hermione. 

Remus raised an eyebrow at James when he was done, letting silence hang between them for a few moments, “Well for once in his life Pads actually gave you some good advice. Why aren't you listening to it?” 

James barked out a laugh, and ran his hand through his already messy hair. “I dunno. It makes sense, but doesn't make it easy.” He shrugged, avoiding eye contact with the perceptive werewolf. 

“Of course it’s not easy.” Remus allowed, reaching out a hand and resting it gently on James’ arm. James stared at his friend’s hand; so calloused and changed by time compared to his own. “But that doesn't make it wrong. No one would question whether you’d loved Lily even if you moved on, Prongs. You have to live your life at some point.”

“Yeah.” James gulped down more of his coffee, feeling more awake with each sip. “Thanks, Moony.”

Remus laughed, “Any time, Prongs.”

Just then there was a loud clatter on the stairs and Hermione came rushing into the room, half-dressed - her blouse hanging open over a strappy top, and still wearing her pyjama shorts - her hair was a wild halo around her head, and her make-up was only half-done. She didn't even notice the other two occupants of the room at first. She hurried over to the other side of the kitchen, shoved two scotch pancakes in the magical toaster, poured herself a mug of coffee with one hand, all whilst she flicked her wand to get her hair pulling itself into a tight and neat plait.

She spun around, mug to her lips and let out a small shriek at seeing Remus and James at the table, “How long have you been there?” She demanded, carefully putting her mug down, her other hand against her chest against her fast beating heart.

James chuckled, suddenly feeling a lot better, “We’ve been here the whole time, ‘Mione.”

He and Remus shared an amused look at the affronted face she made, before spinning back to the magical toaster with a second shriek when it popped up.

“What’s making you so jumpy, love?” Remus asked.

“I’m not jumpy,” She insisted, buttering the scotch pancakes and then carrying them over to the table on a plate with her coffee in the other hand.

“You definitely are.” James said with a little grin.

“Oh, fine!” She took a dramatic bite of her scotch pancake, sticking her tongue out at James and Remus’ amused looks, “My final exam is in under two weeks and I don’t feel ready for it at all!” She stood from the chair and shoved the rest of her food in her mouth. She cast a quick  _ tempus _ and swore loudly, “and now I’m going to be late!”

Remus stood from his chair and put his hands quickly on her shoulders, “Hermione, calm down. Take a quick breath.” She did as instructed, “There. Look, you’re going to do amazing, Hermione. You wouldn't even need to study and you’d still pass with flying colours.”

“Yeah?” She asked tentatively, feeling silly for being this worried, but it was always the way she’d been about testing.

“Of course, Hermione.” James piped up from the table. “I’ve only known you for half a year, and I could’ve told you that after knowing you for a month. You’ll do amazingly.”

“Thanks.” She muttered, sending a large smile at both men. “Now I really do have to finish getting dressed, or I’ll be late.” She hurried out the kitchen, leaving her unfinished coffee behind in an uncharacteristic move of not cleaning up after herself.

The two Marauders were silent for a moment, sharing an amused look. Then James pushed himself to his feet, “I’m going to go be a decadent Pureblood like those Hermione likes to complain about, and go back to bed.” He saluted Remus, who laughed as the Potter left the room. James did just as he’d said, going back to bed and sleeping for hours. When he woke up he felt so much better, and spent a long time thinking about what both Sirius and Remus had said.

**30th August 1999** **  
** **7am** **  
** **Ministry of Magic - London** **  
** **Level 8 - Department of Magical Education**

Hermione’s final exams for her Potions Mastery were taking place in the bowels of the Ministry. She’d spent the previous two weeks spending all her time, when she wasn't doing the practical tests with her Master, revising. The Potter library had been invaluable, and so had, quite surprisingly, Sirius’ knowledge. He’d helped her every spare moment he could, though he was rather busy in the DMLE a lot of the time, being an Auror certainly wasn't a lazing about kind of job after all.

Remus, the only one free that morning, had offered to accompany her to the Ministry for her exams. He’d then go straight from the Ministry to Hogwarts to prepare for the new year of students. James, the only one in Potter Manor without a job/training to go to, had actually been conspicuously absent for the last week, doing something Hermione had no idea about, and no one would tell her about, or acknowledge they knew what the Potter Patriarch was doing.

She approached the desk in the testing centre of level 8, nervously smoothing her hands down her robes. Remus hung back, sending her a small grin and a thumbs up when she turned nervously to look back at him.

The woman at the desk looked up at Hermione with disinterest, not even seeming to notice who was standing in front of her. Hermione was quite happy with that honestly, and hoped the witch’s attitude wouldn't change once she found out her name. 

The woman tapped a pointy-fingernailed-finger against the book on the desk, “Hold your wand against the page, state your name and what you are here to test for. It will register you as arrived. Please then take a seat in the waiting area and the appropriate person will be out to collect you.”

Hermione nodded, swallowed a little nervously and pressed her wand against the page, “Hermione Granger, here to test for my Potions Mastery.” The woman sent Hermione a brief wide-eyed look, but blessedly didn't say anything. Hermione hurried away from the desk, taking a seat next to Remus.

She couldn't stop when her leg started jiggling nervously. Remus chuckled a little and rested his hand gently on her knee to stay her leg, “You’ll do brilliantly Hermione. Stop worrying.”

She shot him a small look, “You might as well tell Sirius to stop turning into a dog, Remus.” She said dryly.

Remus laughed, and flicked his fingers dismissively, “You know you’ll do great and pass. You’re just nervous that you won’t live up to the insane standards that you set for yourself that no one else thinks you have to meet.” He pointed out. Hermione looked at him with wide eyes, not liking that she was so easily readable. “No one except you expects you to do better than your peers just to prove you’re worthy to be in this world Hermione. You belong just as well as anyone who was born knowing about magic.”

She gaped at him a little, “I-”

“You put too much pressure on yourself, love.”

“Hermione Granger!” A stern voice called just then.

She hesitated, still looking at Remus with shock, “Go on then, Hermione. Go knock everyone’s socks off.” He nudged her a little, until she rose on shaky legs, following the examiner back to the testing room.

The next few hours of testing passed surprisingly quickly. Hermione’s revising had, of course, paid off and she felt she’d done rather well. She’d almost certainly passed, though she couldn't stop that stupid niggly voice in the back of her head supplying her with better answers she could’ve provided to the questions they’d asked her.

Remus grinned at her as she exited, getting up out of his seat and coming into step with her as they headed to the lifts, “Well?” He asked, examining her face, and obviously knowing the answer.

“I think it went well.” She conceded, “But I definitely could’ve answered some things better.” 

Remus chuckled, gesturing for her to enter the lift before him as the door slid open, “I’m sure you did fantastic.” He said, obviously amused at the look she sent him. “I’m going to take Dora out for lunch, would you like to come? I’m sure Sirius will insert himself into our group as soon as he sees his partner is leaving for lunch.” 

Hermione let out an amused snort and nodded, following Remus out onto level 2 and the DMLE when the lift stopped there abruptly. 

“Moony! Kitten!” Sirius’ voice was embarrassingly loud in the sudden quiet of the Auror department as the animagus bounced happily over to the two, ignoring the mortified looks on their faces, “Are you here for little ol’ me?” He asked with a grin when the noise level had returned to normal.

“I’m here to pick Dora up for lunch.” Remus said with a soft smile when he spotted his wife heading towards them. “Hi, love.” He said when she drew close enough, pressing a light kiss against her lips.

“Hello to you too.” Tonks turned a big smile on Hermione, “How’d your exams go, ‘Mione?”

Hermione shrugged a little, not wanting to get scolded by more of her friends for apparently worrying needlessly (she didn't think it was needless). 

“Well, we’ll join you for lunch!” Sirius exclaimed, throwing an arm companionably around Hermione’s shoulders and starting to steer her out of the department behind Remus and Tonks.

She turned to look back at the Auror department as they entered the lift and met the sad eyes of Ron, she sighed and waved briefly at him. He’d apologised - poorly - for his behaviour at his birthday, but although she had forgiven him she wasn't really ready to go back to their friendship, and James and Sirius - still furious about the redhead’s treatment of her - refused to let him come ‘round Potter Manor anymore, so she couldn't really start to build that friendship back up anyway.

The quartet made their way out of the Ministry onto the quiet Muggle street the visitors’ entrance was placed on. “I know a lovely cafe near here.” Tonks said, heading away in one direction. The other three trailed after her, trusting the Metamorphmagus to know where she was going.

**1st September 1999** **  
****8pm** **  
** **Potter Manor - Barnstone, Nottinghamshire**

That evening as Harry floated plates filled with dinner - home cooked, as he was one of the only ones in the house who actually cooked and didn't just order out on his evening - the household discovered why James had been so shifty and secretive the last couple of weeks.

“It’s done!” He crowed, striding late for dinner into the dining room, his robes flying out behind him, open over his Muggle jeans and t-shirt. His eyes were bright with triumph.

“What’s done?” Tonks was the one to ask, trying to simultaneously convince Teddy to eat the mush that was his dinner. The whole household, minus Remus who was at Hogwarts, was together for dinner tonight.

“The war orphanage!”

“You completed it?” Sirius demanded, jumping up from the table with a whoop when James nodded, and enveloping his best friend in a hug.

Hermione’s eyes widened, “I didn’t know it was so close to completion?” She exclaimed, amazed.

“Yeah, it was running really behind, so I decided as I had nothing else to do I may as well take charge.” James grinned, cutting into his dinner and thanking his son with heaping thanks and praise that made Harry flush with pleasure. “The guy we’d hired as project manager was just being paid and sitting around on his fat arse doing nothing.” He growled.

Sirius scowled, “What?!”

“Yeah, he was obviously fucking-”

“Language James! Small ears!” Tonks protested, covering Teddy’s ears.

“Sorry, Tonks. He was just dragging it out so that he could get paid more blo-” James cut himself off and sent Tonks an apologetic wince, “money.

It was Sirius’ turn to growl, stabbing his steak viciously. Hermione rolled her eyes, “That’s not his head, Sirius.” She pointed out. “I hope you fired him?” She demanded of James.

“Of course not.” James said with a mischievous grin, “I put him to work - volunteering - for a week cleaning the place up.” Sirius barked out a laugh, and Harry chuckled. Hermione and Tonks exchanged glances and both laughed after a moment, conceding the man had probably deserved it.

“Can we see it?” Harry asked eagerly, his eyes shining happily at all the good that was being done in their world since the end of the war. 

James grinned at his son, “‘Course! I’ll take you all there at the weekend. It was built on the Lestrange land - knocked down the shitty Manor they’d left and replaced it with the Evans Memorial Home.”

Harry blinked a couple of times, his vivid green eyes welling with tears. He gripped tightly to Hermione’s hand when she reached out for him, “You named it for mum.”

James nodded, his eyes swimming too, and his voice thick with tears, “Yeah. It was Sirius’ idea.” He smiled through the tears. Sirius flushed a little at all the attention on him - he liked attention sure, but was uncomfortable with it when it was people admiring his gentler traits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you didn't want her to forgive Ron hah, and she hasn't fully, but she's not a fan of conflict between her friends.


End file.
